The Transfiguration of the Shrew
by theravenclawquill
Summary: Anxious at the loss of many followers, Voldemort has demanded all younger Death Eaters to mate to produce more Death Eater offspring. When Draco Malfoy makes fiery Hermione Granger his target, what kind of trouble will ensue? COMPLETE at last!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Characters/names/settings/etc, belong to the one and only literary icon J.K. Rowling. Some dialogue from William Shakespeare. :)

**(A/N):** This fic was inspired by Shakespeare's book Taming of the Shrew, which I'm currently reading in my English class. I was also inspired by the Romeo and Juliet movie (the one with Leonardo Dicaprio). The movie basically used Shakespeare's exact dialogue, but adapted the plot into a modern day situation, so I was kind of aiming for that "feel". So I'm really sorry if you are somewhat miffed by the use of Shakespeare's dialogue in my fic, but I meant to do that – to try to modernize and incorporate Shakespeare's plot into the world of Harry Potter.

On to the chapter! Shake well and enjoy.

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Draco Malfoy tightened his grip on the brass knocker and tentatively pushed the stone door open.

It creaked ominously, revealing a vast, chilly room within. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, but the comfortless flames only added to the foreboding and menacing feel. Draco had been in here a hundred times, yet he still involuntarily shuddered each time he walked in. The room was nearly empty, save a wooden desk, whose feet ended in carved claws, and a chair with a regal red backing.

And in that chair sat Lucius Malfoy, dressed from head to toe in black mink, with his hair aristocratically tied back at the nape of his neck. He carried with him an intimidating air of wealth and sophistication.

"Son," said the elegant man, touching the tips of his fingers together slowly. "I think we need to talk."

Draco tensed. Not once in his life had anything positive followed those four words. Trying his hardest not to betray uncertainty with his eyes, he croaked, "Yes, sir?"

Lucius, with a quick motion, stood up and began pacing the room. "We're losing the war at this point. Badly." The brief sentence seemed to pierce him. He paused with a sigh, clenched his fists, then continued, "Death Eaters are dying daily, being killed off by Aurors and that bloody Order. If we continue at this rate, all the Death Eaters will be dead within four months. The Dark Side will be reduced to nothing."

Draco tried not to roll his eyes at his father's attempt at dramatics.

Lucius stopped in his tracks and turned slowly around. "You don't want that to happen now, do you?" His cold eyes bore into Draco's own. Draco shook his head solemnly.

"Good," Lucius replied. "Because I have a plan for you. For all of us, actually." He finally tore his penetrating gaze away and sat back down, and Draco sighed in relief. After settling back into his chair, Lucius continued, "The Dark Lord has asked his loyal followers to sacrifice their sons and daughters in the line of duty. Now, you are not to fight yet – some of you children's idiocity may get us all killed; look at that Goyle boy– but for now, your age group is responsible for preparing the next generation of Death Eaters to serve the Dark Lord. He has commanded you and the others to start creating more and more Death Eaters, and quickly. The more we have, the longer we all can keep fighting for the Dark Side. Son, you must find a wife, and fast. We need as many loyal subjects as we can get. And I would recommend someone from the Light Side; that way, you will not become two attached to her, since afterwards, we will have to dispose of her. We can't risk letting anyone go, even if they were on our side; they'll know too much of our plans. So if you use a girl from the Light Side, we get to kill off an enemy while we're at it. Kill two birds with one stone, if you will. So choose wisely. Someone whose qualities you admire, yet want so badly to strangle and murder." Lucius smiled with all the warmth of a January morning.

Draco's mind reeled with all the newfound information. _A wife? A Death Eater baby?_ It made sense, since Voldemort was in such dire need of more fighters. But who would be the woman?_ Someone you admire. Yet someone you want to strangle…Someone you would like to see murdered…Hmm…_ Draco had the answer at once. An evil smirk crossed his face.

"I have it. The Mudblood. Granger," Draco said confidently. "I always wanted to have the last word with her back when we were at school. She was such an arrogant brat; always acted like she was the greatest thing since magic. I can finally show her whose side is superior, Father."

"Hmm. That's not a bad choice," Lucius said quietly, eyes narrowing in consideration. "She would be a good woman to have dead. With that sort of knowledge,…she knows too much for her own good. Lure her in, Draco, make her believe you are on her side. Then, use her for the plan and then… leave her for dead." He clamped a strong hand on Draco's shoulder. "Good idea, son," he said, with the tiniest hint of pride in his otherwise emotionless voice.

Draco smirked.

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Fifty miles away at Hogwarts, nineteen-year-old Hermione Granger sat at her desk, gazing wearily at the mess that lay in front of her. Magda Eisenhower had accidentally blown up yet another snail, her third one since the beginning of the period, causing squeals from the girls and raucous laughter from the boys. Hermione sighed and thought to herself, _When McGonagall had agreed to give me the post of Transfiguration teacher, she didn't mention how incompetent these children were! We were hardly this bad when we were at school!_ Exhaling tiredly, Hermione smoothed her huge, frizzy mane in frustration and made her way to the quivering, little Hufflepuff girl.

"Now, Magda," Hermione started firmly upon reaching her, "If I've told you once, I've told you a million times. It's _Cambia Lucama,_ not _Cambia Lu__maca._ Make your _a's _nice and long, then swish and flick. Otherwise, dear, you'll just keep blowing up your snails and I'm going to have to keep cleaning them up! Honestly, Magda, this isn't hard at all. Try to get it right." Hermione shook her head and hurriedly said a cleaning spell to tidy up the bits of snail lying around. The effects of the superbly placed charm left the floor so clean, it practically sparkled. Hermione gave a satisfied sniff.

Before she could turn back around to walk back to her desk, however, she was startled by yet another loud explosion from the direction of Magda Eisenhower. Hermione closed her eyes and tried not to explode in anger as she walked back at the first-year. Magda's lip was trembling, and a mixture of silent tears and snail guts were streaming down her face.

"Magda, what did I just tell you?" Hermione said, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Did you listen at all to what I just said? What did you do wrong?"

The girl shook her head, her blond ringlets shaking. "I-I'm s-sorry," she squeaked. "I'm not very g-good at m-magic. I-I'm doing everything you said, I just-I just can't!" She squealed the last word, and burst into loud tears. Hermione thus had to spend the last ten minutes of class comforting the distraught student while cleaning up the brown gunk that now seemed permanently stuck to the floor.

When the bell finally tolled, signaling the end of first period, the first years filed out of the class and Hermione sank back into her chair, sighing deeply.

_I need a vacation,_ she thought despairingly. _And I need to see my friends again… but they're all off fighting for the Order! I wish I could be out there fighting too; if only everyone would stop being so protective of me. I can fight, but no, they want me to stay at Hogwarts instead and teach Transfiguration in McGonagall's place…_

Hermione thought back to her Hogwarts graduation just two years ago, at the end of her seventh year. The event was somber yet joyful, filled with students saying their last goodbyes to friends and teachers. She herself had to part with Ron; he had set off to help with Harry's search for Horcruxes directly afterward. Harry hadn't even come back to Hogwarts for his last year, but he had insisted that Ron complete an education before joining him in his journey. And they both had refused Hermione's help, claiming that it was too dangerous, that she had to stay and help out the Order at home. _Yeah, I'm __such__ a big help,_ Hermione scoffed sarcastically. _I'm sure cleaning up dead snail guts on a daily basis is just absolutely vital to the Light Side's success…_

Her head pounded painfully, and she rubbed her temples, groaning. _Maybe I should get some air,_ she thought, pushing herself out of her desk and heading to the library.

Because even after two years, that was still Hermione: When in doubt, or in this case, when experiencing a splitting headache, go to the library.

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**(A/N)** How was it? I hope you liked it! Please review, I would love to know how I did! and I would love to get a feel for what people like or don't like, etc. Also, reviews really motivate me to get cracking on my next chapters. : More to come!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names/etc. belong to my hero J.K. Rowling. :

Thank yous: Seducing Reason, Kiaaa, anonymous, and Coldblueblood. You guys are awesome! Snaps for you!

On with the second chapter. Place in oven, heat 360, and enjoy. (:

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Hermione climbed the spiraling stone staircase that led to the high-ceilinged library and breathed in the refreshing scent of parchment. _Ahh,_ she sighed, comforted. The library, filled with such endless knowledge and learning, was the only place outside of her own house where Hermione truly felt at home.

Picking out a thick volume for some light reading, she folded down her cloak and settled into a chair at the back niche of the vast room. Minutes passed swiftly as Hermione flipped yellowed page after yellowed page. Just as she was really delving into the book, she heard footsteps coming closer and stopping in front of her desk. She looked up slowly, and almost jumped at the person standing in front of her. The tall, thin, and slightly handsome boy was nineteen, she knew for a fact, and he had ruffled, white-blond hair and piercing grey eyes. His clothes were baggy, yet they looked immaculate and crisp on his lean body. He wore a smirk that Hermione knew too well.

"Malfoy," she growled disgustedly. "What the hell are you doing at Hogwarts? You must have some nerve even showing your face after what happened."

With one smooth motion, Draco pulled out a chair, sat down, and swung his feet onto the table. "Hey," he drawled, pretending to sound hurt, "out of all people, I expected you to believe I had nothing to do with Dumbledore's death. I was under the Imperius Curse, you remember my confession to McGonagall. I thought you were smart enough to remember something that happened not two years ago." He picked at his fingernail nonchalantly, and Hermione fumed.

She shoved his feet roughly off the table and hissed in his face, "That confession was a bunch of codswallop, and you know it."

Draco scoffed. "McGonagall herself believes I was innocent, not to mention Rufus Scrimgeour and everyone in the damn wizarding community. I don't care if you believe me, I know myself that I am innocent, and that is enough." With that said, the blond teenager sat on the edge of his chair and leaned in closer to Hermione.

_Enough of this phony chit chat,_ he thought to himself. _Time to put this plan into action. _

"Herminny, that's your first name, right?", he asked her, turning on the charm that had captivated and enamored countless girls in his lifetime. "Well, I wouldn't know, since I've never cared enough to call you by your true name before."

"Well, you must have heard wrong, or you must be hard of hearing," Hermione replied coolly, oblivious to his flirtatious nature. "It's Hermione. But you usually just called me by my surname or other foul names while we were at school, so I must say, this is a somewhat pleasant change." She looked back down at her book and mentally willed the odious boy to leave her alone.

Unfortunately, he didn't budge.

"Okay then. Hermione," he continued pompously. "Hermione. You know, I have to admit. Although I've never really noticed you myself, I have heard of your beauty from Weasel and that idiot Neville throughout my days at Hogwarts, and I was moved at how they spoke of you. Hence, that's the reason I set out from my humble house today to find you at Hogwarts. I am desperate, and I would, Hermione Granger, like to court you for my wife."

Draco almost gagged at the repulsive speech that had just come barreling out of his mouth. Trying not to grimace, he motivated himself with the thought that he was faithfully serving the Dark Lord.

A long, shocked silence met his request, as Hermione sat agape, her jaw almost hitting the floor.

Finally, after an uncomfortably lengthy moment, Hermione regained her composure and narrowed her eyes at him. "You're taking the mickey out of me!" she hissed disbelievingly. "How dare you come in this hallowed hall just to make fun of me? I can't believe you! I don't know what you came here for, but I suggest you get out my face before I curse you into oblivion, you movable." Hermione finished her rant, huffed loudly, and snobbishly stuck her nose back in her book.

"What's a movable?" Draco persisted, getting up and pacing around her. He was not yet about to let the Dark Lord down by giving up on Hermione so easily. Even if she was such a hideous, unlikable creature. _Such a shrew,_ he thought to himself, amused. _But when I get to see her killed…_

She didn't look up from her book. "I don't know. A stool."

"Well, if I'm such a stool, why don't you come sit on me?" he teased.

"Asses are made to bear and so are you," she quipped back.

"Fine, Hermione," Draco sighed dramatically. "I'm not going to _force_ you to marry me. It's your own choice. If you won't let such a buzzard like me take you…" He paused to search her face for a reaction. When there was none, he continued, frustrated, "Oh come off it, you wasp! You're always so angry. It's no wonder you never had any friends!"

Upon hearing this, Hermione slammed her book loudly shut and then stared coldly up at Draco.

"If I am waspish, then you should beware my sting," she snapped icily.

"My remedy will be to pluck it out."

"If you're smart enough to find out where it lies!"

"Who doesn't know where a wasp's sting is? In his tail, of course."

"In his tongue."

"Tongue? Whose tongue?"

"It'll be yours if you keep talking to me. So, goodbye." Hermione folded her arms, crossed her legs, and raised an eyebrow, pointedly waiting for him to leave.

But he still didn't budge. Instead, a small smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and he replied with mock surprise, "What, with my tongue in your tail? Merlin, Hermione, there's no need to plague me with such dirty thoughts now – I am a gentleman –"

"That I doubt," interrupted a disgusted Hermione, slapping him smartly across the face with considerably more strength than she had used on him in her third year.

Draco staggered and gasped angrily, putting a hand to his red face. Then, he slowly rearranged his features and ran a hand through his sleek strands of hair, recovering his poise. He breathed in and out calmly, and then hissed dangerously quiet, "I _swear_ I will hex you if you _ever_ strike me again."

Hermione, however, was not affected by this menacing threat. She retorted, "Go ahead. Try me. I promise you'll lose both your arms and your wand if you do."

"Oh, come off it, Hermione, you must not look so sour," sighed Draco, attempting to keep the plan working, "It just accentuates your big hair. And you definitely don't need to bring any more attention to that revolting, frizzy mess."

"Well, it is my habit of frowning when I see a crab," she sniffed haughtily.

"There's no crab here."

"Yes there is, there is."

"Where, then? Go on, show me, if you're so clever."

"If I had a mirror, I would."

_Oho! Did she think that was supposed to be funny? _Draco thought, snorting to himself. _How pathetic. Well, if she's going to be insufferable like this… I've had enough of trying to convince her. I have to take action. Now. _

"Okay, then. If you're going to be that way, you really leave me no choice," Draco sneered.

Ignoring Hermione's confused look, he swiftly whipped out his wand and muttered a long, complicated curse at her. Green ropes shot out of the tip, swirled around, and wound around her, binding her arms and legs together. She tried to scream for help, but a rope gagged her as soon as she opened her mouth. The vines knocked her out of her chair onto the floor, where she glared up at Draco with fire and fear burning vehemently behind her brown eyes. She thrashed and tried to break free, but to no avail.

Draco smirked and bent down to look at her bound, struggling body. "Sorry, dear, I know you're terribly eager," he drawled sarcastically, making sure to spit in her face as he talked, "but Father has to approve of our marriage before we go ahead and officially wed. Now, come on, let's go."

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**(A/N) **How was it? Did you enjoy it? I hope you did! Please leave me a review, I would love to know more about how I'm doing and what you think about this so far! Without your reviews and support, I'm likely to sit around watching TV instead of writing. (: Motivate me, dears! (You will also save me from the TV.) [: more to come!


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names/etc. borrowed from J.K. Rowling. Some dialogue borrowed from Shakespeare. (: the two literary giants right there.  
Thank you's: MisterFuzzyMan, ccrawley10, coldblueblood, Lalia xx, ButterflyRei, & Roonil! You guys are the best! More snaps for you all! (:

(A/N) Well, on with the chapter. Cook thoroughly and enjoy! (:

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Malfoy's mansion was gorgeous, with tall, immaculate white columns and stained glass windows that stretched to the sky. If she were not bound by ropes that cut dangerously into her skin and being kidnapped and roughly dragged around like garbage by her childhood foe, Hermione thought that she actually might have admired the pristine house.

She looked helplessly around at her surroundings as Draco carried her through the front door and up a flight of marble stairs. The walls were filled with pictures of past generations of Malfoys, all staring curiously at the two teenagers as they passed and whispering through their frames at each other. Hermione's heart pounded as she anxiously thought of what lie ahead. _I don't believe him!_ she thought, panicky. _What's going to happen to me? What is he going to do?" _She desperately tried reaching her wand, sitting innocently in her left pocket, but the ropes prevented her prying fingers.

Hermione suddenly felt her head being rammed roughly into a door and heard Draco's voice from above. "Thanks for opening the door, Granger, my hands were full," he snickered. Murderous thoughts ran through Hermione's sore head as she was lifted into an upright position. When she was back on her feet, she almost collapsed from the head rush, but felt forceful hands keep her steady.

She blew her frizzy, sweaty bangs out of her face and saw Malfoy's father, also aristocratic and intimidating, studying her with a calculating glare. He pulled the rope that gagged Hermione out of her mouth, and she immediately started shrieking for help.

Lucius calmly replaced the rope back into her mouth to muffle her and released his iron grip. He turned to his son and asked quietly, "How did it go with her, Draco?"

Draco smirked and nodded. "How else but well, sir?"

"Good, I shall inform the Dark Lord that the Malfoys, at least, are still loyal to him."

Hermione, enraged and shocked, thought to herself, _Bloody Death Eaters? Oh Merlin, they're going to murder me! Are they rounding up all the Mudbloods and killing them? _Hermione broke out in a cold sweat and felt like she was suffocating. _I have to get out of here, I have to get out of here…_

Unfortunately, Lucius had, at that exact moment, shut and bolted the door with a wave of his wand. It slammed with a loud, resounding bang that echoed menacingly throughout the barren room.

_Shit…_

"It's a match, then," said Lucius triumphantly, clasping his hands together. "You two will be married on Sunday."

Hermione was so appalled by this news that, in a burst of fury, she managed to spit the taut rope out of her mouth. "What! I shall be hanged on Sunday first!" she cried in their faces, thrashing around and stomping on the ground. "I chafe you if I tarry. Please! Let me go!" She sobbed, falling to her knees awkwardly, still bound with the painful ropes. "Let me go!"

Lucius was taken aback by her outburst, and he immediately summoned an old, disgruntled house elf into the room. "Grumio," he snapped at the creature, "show this girl to her room." The elf grunted, "Yes, Master," and tried to yank Hermione off the ground. Being at least four feet shorter and much lighter than the fraught girl, of course, he proved to have quite a problem.

Lucius growled in frustration and strode over to Hermione's struggling figure, dragging her up with one arm. She cried out and Lucius leaned in dangerously close to her tear-stained face. "Let it be understood," he hissed quietly, "that no daughter of mine will soil the Malfoy house by doing all this weak crying. If you don't want to be thrown out, I suggest you take that to heart." He let go disgustedly.

Hermione stopped her crying momentarily to stare blankly at Lucius. _Did he just say…_

"I-I'm not going to be killed?" Hermione squeaked tearfully.

A small, evil smile crossed Lucius' face. "No, of course not," he said smoothly. "My son was merely desperate to get married, and you were the girl he chose. Trust me, my dear, we have no interest in killing you." He waved his wand elegantly, and the ropes that bound Hermione fell limply to the floor, all except for one, that he replaced in her mouth.

Hermione sniffed and wiped at her eyes, trying to stem her tears from flowing. She was so relieved that she wasn't about to be murdered that she allowed the elf to take her by the elbow and lead her to the door. The elf snapped its gnarled fingers, and the numerous locks clicked open, along with the heavy door. As Hermione exited, she took several backward glances, as if wishing that she hadn't just been imagining the whole scene after all. Finally, with one final glance, she was led out and down the hall, where she disappeared from sight.

Draco was left standing silently next to his father.

"Ah, now we can talk, Draco," said Lucius, striding back to his desk, hands clasped behind his back. "Your, ah, fiancée isn't the most good-natured girl I've ever met, is she? Honestly, her temper isn't particularly desirable for helping with the Dark Lord's deeds. We imagined more of a tame and dimwitted girl, one that will obey any directions given to her, especially out of fear. She cannot find out a way to escape or transmit information. This one doesn't seem at all complying nor yielding; she seems difficult to control. Are you absolutely sure she is the one you want?"

Draco thought about his father's words. _Granger is a pain in the arse… but I can't let her go now without her being murdered. Might as well use her for the child instead of get her killed for nothing._ A bit taken aback by his kind (in his standards) consideration of the Mudblood's life, Draco replied calmly, "Yes, Father. Trust me, the shrew will be tamed. I will take care of it. She wants to be fiery and rude; well, two can play that game. Provide the feast and bid the guests; I will make sure Hermione is docile by then."

Lucius nodded in ardent agreement and folded his hands together on the desk, signaling that Draco could exit the room. Draco put his hands in his pockets and turned to leave, but when he reached the door, he suddenly smirked and turned back around.

"Father, you said we had no interest in killing her."

Lucius threw his head back and chuckled, baring several pearly white teeth. "Oh, Draco, Draco," he chuckled wickedly. "We don't have any interest in killing her…_yet_."  
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**(A/N) **How was it? Did you like this chapter? I hope you did! Please leave me a review so I can know your opinion! (: and motivate me, again! (: keep me writing! _myspace and the television are just calling my name_…ahaha. .:)


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names/etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, and some dialogue belong to Shakespeare!

Thank yous: Roonil (you're like my favorite Fanfiction friend!), coldblueblood, Singforthemoment, and Michelle Lynn! Thanks so much for all the support, everyone, it goes appreciated! (:

With that said, on to the chapter! Keep in cool place, and enjoy! (:

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Hermione was sitting on the enormous red bed in her room in Malfoy's mansion, tears caked onto her face, silently contemplating on her bizarre state. She had just been kidnapped, locked in a room, and been forced to marry the one boy she had hoped never to see again. And to top it all off, she was starving and talking to a wrinkled, old house elf.

"Why me?" Hermione cried despairingly to Grumio, who was looking as if he would rather be anywhere but stuck watching over the Malfoy's latest prisoner. "Why did he choose to marry me? Just like that, out of the blue? Out of all the girls that he knew? Why me?... I can't help but think there's an ulterior motive… don't you think?" The elf scratched awkwardly at his big ears, saying nothing.

Taking the elf's silence as an indication to continue ranting, Hermione kept going, "Did he marry me to famish me? To get back at me since he used to hate Harry, Ron, and me?...And who's going to feed Crookshanks?... Here, I am starved for meat, giddy for lack of sleep. Malfoy says, sarcastically of course,that he does it in the name of love…codswallop! As if to say, if I sleep or eat, I shall die or something? Please, please, Grumio, get me some food!"

The elf tottered on his feet and wavered hesitantly, obviously reluctant to disobey the direct order from his master not to give the girl anything. Fortunately, for Grumio, Draco Malfoy chose that moment to storm into the room, cloak fluttering in his dramatic entrance.

"How's your stay been, Hermione?" the boy smirked in a mocking manner, pretending to bow.

"As cold as can be," was her icy reply.

Draco sneered at her, then thrust a plate holding a juicy steak at her. "Take this, then," he snapped, then muttering under his breath, "ungrateful piece of-"

Hermione looked warily at the meat, wondering if it was safe to take in something that the enemy offered.

"Well, such kindness merits thanks, doesn't it?" Draco drawled. When Hermione simply continued to stare, he snapped, "What, not a word? Fine, Grumio, then take the dish away."

Hermione jumped as the only food she'd seen in a day was lifted out of her reach. "No, no, no!" she cried desperately. "No, I thank you! Please, I thank you!"

Draco smirked as he watched her stuff herself with steak. _Getting tamer by the second,_ he thought malevolently. "Anyway," he said aloud, "tonight we're having a pre-wedding dinner. Some of Father's, ah, _friends_ are coming, and I think you should make an appearance." He snickered and snapped his fingers, signaling two house elves into the room.

"You," he said to the first, "let's see the ornaments. And you," he turned to the other, "lay out the gown."

The two elves stumbled in their haste to lay out their merchandise on the bed first. Draco studied them carefully, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Finally, after a few moments silence, he yelled out, "What is this? This obviously won't fit her! And this cap is disgusting! You stupid gits! Away with these! Bring me another!" He grabbed the heap of clothing and threw the items at the elves, who squeaked as the weight toppled them over.

Hermione's heart soared with pity for the little servants and annoyance at Draco. Ever since her S.P.E.W days, she'd had a weak (and also quite strong at the same time) spot for mistreated house elves.

"No, no, it's fine, this will fit," she said quickly, attempting to pacify the irate Malfoy before he could injure the elves. "I mean, it's quite common for gentlewomen to wear these sorts of caps."

"And when you are gentle, you shall have one too," Draco said, with the maddening air of a parent explaining a difficult concept to a child. "But until then…"

He turned back, unable to hide the wide smirk that was crossing his face. Hermione, upon seeing this, felt something in her…

snap.

_Who the hell does he THINK he IS? _Hermione fumed to herself. _He bursts into Hogwarts, kidnaps me for his wife, locks me up like an animal, starves me, and now he has the nerve to speak to me like I 'm a baby! He has no right to talk to me that way! If anything, I should be the one yelling at him!_

Hermione leapt furiously off the bed, eyes burning and brown hair wildly frizzy, to the point where she looked like she had been run through with an electric shock. She stomped to Draco's turned back.

"I. Am. No. Child," she hissed to him, enunciating each word sharply and determinedly. "I have the right to speak, and speak I will. This cape and dress I will have, or I will have none. Do we…understand each other?" Her eyes burned into Draco's, and he could feel her radiating malice. Yet he stood his ground and didn't waver. He pushed her shoulder roughly and took a menacing step towards her.

"Fine," he snapped back, "then you will eat naked. I daresay that will be interesting." He smirked nastily, then continued, "Otherwise, you will wear the one I will personally pick out for you and bring to you this afternoon. In the meantime, do something about that hair of yours. At the rate it's growing, you probably won't fit through the door tomorrow evening." Draco huffed, turned, and then did a double take, yelling, 'NOW!', frightening Hermione so much that she cried out and stumbled backwards, tripping onto the bed.

Draco roared with malevolent laughter and slammed the door closed a bit louder than necessary, leaving Hermione on her own to run around the room, screaming, kicking, and destroying the furniture in frustration.

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**(A/N) **How was it? I hope you liked it! Please review, I would love to know how I'm doing! Also, reviews motivate me to stop procrastinating. Haha, I put the PRO in procrastination. I haven't done any homework yet…darn. Well, anyway, more to come soon! (:


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Characters/names/etc., belong to J.K. Rowling. (: no Shakespeare in this chapter. (:

Thank you's: coldblueblood, animerocksjapanrocks (cool pen name, by the way!) jay is me, zoe (oh, by the way, one of Hermione's old friends do find out next chapter!), Roonil, and softly descending! You guys are great and deserve more snaps! (:

On to the chapter. CHEERS. (:

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A few hours later, Hermione awoke to a loud thump on her bed.

"Whoozat?" she hissed sleepily as she sat up, rubbing her eyes. She saw the door to the room close, a small creature disappearing from sight, and a lavender gown lying over her silk blankets.

She looked at the dress for a second, wondering warily if it would be wise to touch it. Slowly, she crawled over to the dress and fingered the floral design delicately. _If there's one good thing I can say about Draco Malfoy, _Hermione thought with a slight smile, _is that he definitely has style._

After curiously trying on the pastel dress and washing her tear stained face, Hermione stared at herself in the body length mirror. _Hmm, _she thought. _Not bad. _The dress fell gracefully just past her knees, and was tied around the waist with a sleek sash.

Suddenly, she noticed, out of her peripheral vision, that the little golden lock on her door was slightly turned to the right. Looking around subtly, as if checking to see if anyone was watching, Hermione quietly walked over to the door and hesitantly pushed down on it. _Dare I hope…?_

It opened with a small click. Her heart soared and pounded in anticipation.

_Yes! My chance to get out of here!_

Hermione snuck out the door and shut it silently, pondering her next move. But to her great surprise, once she turned around, she found herself staring straight into the face of Draco Malfoy. She gave a start, clamping her hand to her chest. "Merlin, Malfoy!" she gasped in fright.

However, he wasn't the least bit shaken by Hermione's not-so-ingenious plan of escape. He was leaning against the banisters of the stairs, smirking slightly, arms folded, and calm as could be.

"I was wondering when you'd try to sneak out," he drawled. "I have to be honest, you lasted a lot longer than I expected. The door's been unlocked for rather a long while; I thought you had died in there or something. Huh. Too bad."

Hermione's jaw dropped in indignation and immediately raised a hand to strike him. However, a split second before her palm made contact with Draco's face, he caught her thin wrist and clutched it so tightly she felt her blood circulation cut off. She winced and whimpered in pain as he wrung it in between his grip.

"Huh," Draco sneered. "You're really going to have to stop doing that."

He let go roughly, and Hermione immediately gasped for breath, clinging to her wounded wrist.

"We're going to dinner," Draco said, reaching out his arm as if nothing had happened. Hermione didn't move, but instead slowly folded her arms and gave him a look that undeniably read, _Over my dead body._ Draco shook his white blond head and chuckled faintly. "You don't understand, Hermione," he told her. "This isn't Hogwarts. This is my house. And when you're in my house and don't follow directions, it's not going to be pretty." His deep, cold eyes locked on hers, and she shivered, feeling fear run down her spine. Reluctantly, Hermione shuffled forward and descended into the dining room with Draco by her side.

The dining room was brightly lit, with several glass chandeliers adorning the high ceilings. A long table was decorated with black placemats (_gee, obvious much?_ Hermione thought) and candles that floated gracefully above each seat. Hermione scanned the various visitors that were already mingling in the room and immediately spotted a red head bobbing in the crowd. Her heart caught in her throat.

_That shade of red…It can't be…_

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**(A/N) **I'm extremely sorry about the cliffhanger and about the short, short chapter! I planned to have this chapter along with the next chapter, but it was getting really long, so I cut it into two sections. Well, I hope you enjoyed it still! Please leave me a review so I know what you think! (: Time to go watch GoF! –cheers!-


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names/etc. belong to J.K. Rowling, and some dialogue belong to William Shakespeare. Thanks, guys! (:

Thank yous: Misteriousangel101, coldblueblood (hehe, it's not Percy, but excellent guess), Rae-elfin-warrior, Roonil, and x.Jay.x! You guys are wonderful, great, and completely brilliant! Thanks! (:

On to the chapter! Take with food, and enjoy. (:

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The owner of the flaming red hair wheeled around to face her. Hermione gasped.

"Ginny!" Hermione cried joyfully, rushing at once over to her old friend's side. "What are you doing here!" The young, eighteen year old girl, Hermione noticed, looked much too old and weary for her age. The spunky personality and enduring energy that had once made Ginny unique was gone. The mischievous fire that had once inhabited her eyes had long since been extinguished. And it wasn't just her personality. Her small, red dress hung limply on her skeletal body, dark bags lined her eyes, and her arms lay limply by her side.

It looked as if she had been …_tamed. _But what had happened?

"Hermione!" Ginny cried, attempting to sound energetic but failing miserably. "I heard that Draco had proposed to you! I hoped to run into you here; I've missed you so terribly these years!" She embraced Hermione and managed a weak smile.

Hermione hugged her back but then creased her eyebrows. "Wait, what?" she asked Ginny, tilting her head to the side in confusion. "How did you hear that Draco had 'proposed' to me?"

Ginny gave a faint smile, then held up a bony hand, the ring finger encompassed with a simple diamond. "Blaise Zabini proposed to me a few weeks ago," she said tiredly, sighing. "Actually, now that I think back, I never really said yes to him. But he basically cursed me into agreeing and now…here I am." She shrugged resignedly.

Thoughts ran through Hermione's mind. _Why in the world did two ex-Slytherins choose to marry two ex-Gryffindors that all mutually hated each other? Something's not right here…_

"Wait a second, Ginny, Draco cursed me into agreeing as well!" Hermione cried out. "Listen," she grabbed Ginny's elbow, "I think there's something really fishy going on –"

But before she could finish her sentence, Blaise Zabini materialized at Ginny's side. Hermione slowly took in his appearance and almost staggered at Blaise's elegant attractiveness. He had dark, sleek hair and stood tall and slender, with piercing black eyes that exuded deep animosity. He glared silently at Hermione before turning to Ginny.

"You shouldn't be talking to her, Ginny," he said quietly. "I thought I told you not to talk to anyone."

Hermione almost chuckled to herself. She was looking forward to Ginny's imminent retort. _No one_ spoke to Ginny that way without getting their ass kicked.

But to Hermione's immense shock and awe, Ginny just replied meekly, "I'm sorry, sir. I request your forgiveness." She lowered her head in shame, refusing to meet Hermione's eye. Blaise nodded in satisfaction and walked back to the group of rich men he was talking to.

Still looking at the floor and avoiding Hermione's accusing gaze, Ginny whispered, "Sorry, Hermione, I have to go. If I disobey Blaise, it'll mean more punishments for me. Well, you know what I mean, right? Doesn't Draco unleash the same punishments on you?"

Hermione reeled, staring at Ginny with shock. W_hat did she just say? Did Blaise punish her with…curses? Hexes? If it's true, then, Merlin…I can't believe how lucky I was to have only bruises from where the ropes held me! Even though Draco's a dirty Death Eater kidnapper, at least he's not a dirty abusive Death Eater kidnapper. _

Ginny gave Hermione a quick hug, and Hermione found her eyes starting to water. It was so unfair! After spending two years without one of her closest friends, she now was forbidden to talk to her. Hermione watched as Ginny made her way toward Blaise, hanging on his every word. That wasn't the Ginny Hermione remembered. And it wasn't the Ginny Hermione liked.

Hermione's reverie was suddenly interrupted by Lucius, who was dressed in a fur cloak and accompanied by Narcissa Malfoy, who was dressed in a red, flowing gown, her hair set in high golden curls.

"Nothing but sit and sit, eat and eat!" Lucius boomed, authoritatively gesturing everyone to their chairs. Hermione was pushed into a chair between Draco and a dark haired girl she did not know. As Hermione hastily took her seat, Draco leaned in close to her ear and whispered, sending chills and hot breath down her back, "Well, well, doesn't Blaise look nice tonight?"

Draco sniggered, and she reckoned that he had seen her give Blaise the old once-over. Hermione forced herself to give a complacent giggle, and untruthfully say, "Not even, he looks like a vampire that hasn't had blood in three months!" Both gave a shrill, fake laugh, then quieted and glared at each other again, stabbing forks into their food.

"Grumio!" Draco barked, halfway through his turkey. "Bring me some water! Hey, and what is this supposed to be, anyway? Turkey! It's burnt! Take it away and bring me another one!" He shook his head frustratingly as the elf practically tripped over himself hurrying to obey his master.

Hermione scowled. "The meat is fine," she said in a clipped voice. "If you weren't being such a git, you'd see that it's not even burnt."

"It's burnt."

"It's fine."

"It's burnt, and don't argue with me. Take this away." Draco shoved the plate at Grumio, who bowed and took it back into the kitchen.

The dark haired girl on Hermione's left turned haughtily to Hermione. "Careful," she said nasally, (which was odd since her nose was so turned up it was hard to imagine her being able to breathe) "You shouldn't be so hard on your fiancé, since he's probably better than anyone you could ever hope to get in your lifetime." The girl simpered at Draco.

Hermione scoffed and sipped some of her water indifferently. "Which is why I have him and you don't. So stop hitting on him; you look pathetic."

The table let out a coordinated gasp.

"A hundred Galleons, my Hermione does put her down!" Draco yelled out, amused. The table roared with boisterous laughter.

Hermione decided she had had quite enough embarrassment, slammed her napkin onto the table, and stormed into the kitchen. She was immediately followed by a distraught Ginny, who was desperate to console her friend.

Following their departure, Draco said scathingly to Blaise, "See, your girl has left too; against your wish! Can't you control her?"

At this, Blaise gave a loud, derisive laugh. "Hark who's talking!" he laughed. "I don't know if I've ever met a less temperate girl than Mudblood Granger! And I'll have you know, I have much control over Ginny. I have my ways, and I'd be wiling to bet that they are more successful than yours. If you have any control over Granger, it definitely doesn't show!"

Draco scowled angrily. "I'll take your offer, then," he said firmly. "20 Sickles that Hermione is tamer than Ginny."

"Twenty?" Blaise scoffed. "I thought you were rich."

"A hundred."

"Content."

"Go on then," Blaise said to Grumio, "bid me my mistress." At Blaise's command, the little elf left and went to find Ginny. The room went quiet.

"Watch and learn, old friend," Blaise whispered to Draco.

Draco rolled his eyes and scowled.

After a few tense moments, the elf returned meekly to the room, alone. "Sir," he squeaked. "Your wife says she will not come. She bids you come to her." He winced as if bracing himself for Blaise's reaction.

Indeed, Blaise's eyes flamed and he leapt up, his face turned bright red in anger. In a quiet, menacing voice, he hissed, "What did she say to you?" The elf squeaked a response and fumbled with the piece of spare parchment he was holding. He read nervously, "Your wife, sir, she wrote that after talking to Miss Granger, she realized just how much badly you have been treating her. She says Master Malfoy never cursed Miss Granger, and she entreat you do the same." The elf gulped loudly and rocked on the balls of his large feet.

Blaise's eyes darted nervously around the room, beads of sweat forming on his pale forehead. Trying to regain his composure, he muttered (loudly enough for everyone to hear), "That's complete bollocks, is what it is. I never laid a wand on that girl…the nerve…" He sank back down in his chair and rubbed his temples wearily. "All right, on with it, then," he said reluctantly. "I'm sure we all want to see what the Mudblood does."

Draco turned to Grumio. "Go get Hermione," he barked.

The poor elf bowed, stumbled, and left the room again.

Not even five seconds had passed before Hermione pushed open the door. The room let out a collective gasp of surprise. "I heard you needed to see me, sir," she said crisply, twirling her wavy brown hair, unaware of how quiet the room had gotten in her presence.

Draco was so taken aback by Hermione that he tripped on his own feet and fell back into his chair. _She came! But why…why did she come…and above all, call me 'sir'? After all I've put her through? I don't understand why she would obey me! Maybe she heard the bet and just wanted me to win the Sickles to share with her…bloody git if she did. But somehow, I don't think that's right. Maybe she is getting tamer… Maybe…_

"Draco?" she said again, large brown eyes questioning her fiancé. "Hello? Did you call me?"

The boy ran a hand through his shiny hair and stammered, "Er, yes, Hermione… tell – tell Blaise here what duty a wife should…owe their husbands."

Hermione gave a small smirk and said stately, with her head held high, "Husbands are the women's lord, life, and keeper. They care for their wives by giving them a room in their house, food when they are famished, and beautiful garments to wear. They deserve compliant wives that are bound to serve, love, and above all, _obey_. Fair looks are too little a payment; a wife should do whatever their husband wishes of them. The wives should place their hands below their husband's foot…and my hand is ready, I hope it may do you ease." Then, Hermione turned her head slightly and looked directly at Draco.

Draco felt the full blast of her fiery gaze, which filled him with respect and strange admiration for Hermione's change of heart. The whole room burst into applause, (save for Blaise, of course), but none clapped as hard as Lucius. His mouth was set into a firm line, and he nodded in fervent agreement with all of Hermione's words. It seemed that finally, he had the Death Eater daughter he had searched for.

As the room continued clapping, however, Draco never broke his gaze with Hermione. The whole room seemed to mute and fade away as the two continued staring at each other.

No matter how much he wanted to believe that Hermione had finally changed, Draco could not shake the feeling that…

_something was different. _

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**(A/N) **How was this chapter? I hope you liked it! Please review, I would love to know what people think about my story so far! Well, or anything, actually…you can describe to me what you had for lunch today, for all I care! (: Ahaha, I'm so lame. Well, off to go do homework. ): Gah, homework sure does suck, I'm so failing my Euro class. But alas, I will not bore you with my tales of sorrow. (: More to come soon! Next chapter is in progress!


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names belong to the creative, wonderful mind of J.K. Rowling.

Thank yous: mike tike tofu, coldblueblood, pinkicing101, Lalia xx, mysteriousangel101, strawberries, and nikki! Thank you all, you guys are so great! Thanks for the support, you're all wonderful. (:

On to the chapter! Shake well and enjoy cold. (:

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Meanwhile, miles away, Harry Potter was sitting in barren, cold 12 Grimmauld Place, staring intently into his stone fireplace.

Something had moved, he was sure of it.

Harry scratched his head and moved to kneel in front of the warmthless flames. As he inched closer and closer, a girl's face suddenly popped into view.

He jumped back a mile. "Ginny?" he questioned, unable to hide the excitement in his voice. In his never-ending quest to defeat Voldemort, Harry had not seen his old girlfriend in over three years. "W-What are you doing?"

Ginny shook her head, red strands of hair fanning the licking fire. "I don't have much time, Harry, Hermione's stalling the Death Eaters while I tell you this."

"What? Death Eaters? Ginny, where-?"

"No, we're okay, we're not in danger. Look, you know how Blaise Zabini forced me to marry him?"

Harry muttered murderously.

Ginny took a split second to give a slight smile, and went on, "Anyway, I didn't think too much on it before today. Before Hermione told me that Draco Malfoy had forced her to marry him as well! Don't you think this whole thing is a bit odd? I mean, why else would Malfoy just up and choose to marry Hermione? I mean, this was the girl he hatedand spat on for nearly six years, and all of a sudden, he loves her? No one, Harry, no one changes that fast. And look at Blaise, who called me – my whole family – blood traitors…why would he choose me for a wife? I'd be willing to bet that it's not a coincidence; there's something weird going on here."

Harry nodded, thoughts running through his head. "You're right, you're right," he said, scrambling to get a quill and parchment, "where are you and Hermione staying?"

"I'm at the Zabinis' – 77 Iniquity Avenue. Ask my mum and dad where Malfoy Manor is; I'm not sure about this house's address, and I know Dad could get you the address from the Ministry."

Harry scribbled furiously on the parchment, pushing up his glasses every few seconds. Suddenly, Ginny turned sharply in the fire, staring at something Harry couldn't see.

"I have to go," she whispered quickly. "Hermione's done with her little fake speech, the people will come in soon." Then unexpectedly, she turned back.

"Harry," she said quietly. "We'll meet again. I promise."

She gave a quick wave, and with a small pop, Ginny's face disappeared.

With that, Harry Potter was left all alone. Once again.

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Hermione slipped her dreadful purple shoes off her feet and fell backward onto her bed, sighing in relief. Yet although the pain in her feet had subsided, the pain in her heart had yet to follow. _It's been a while since I've been gone, surely someone at Hogwarts should have noticed…_ she thought. Then a frightening notion popped into her head: _Oh Merlin, what if Mr. Malfoy discussed it over with McGonagall? Or worse, told her that I was the one that wanted to leave? That I was so eager, I forgot to mention it to McGonagall. She wouldn't be so dense, though, mind like hers…she must have a plan in order…yes, yeah, I'm sure there's people searching for me right this minute…_

Suddenly, the door to Hermione's room slammed open. She looked up abruptly and narrowed her eyebrows at the visitor.

Draco Malfoy was leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded, emotions unreadable.

"Thanks for knocking," Hermione said sarcastically.

Draco didn't answer, but simply pushed away from the door and sank into a nearby wooden chair, arms on his knees.

"What do you want?" Hermione asked, continuing to narrow her eyes. "Generally, when people barge in on other people, they should have something important to say to make up for it."

"Back to the old, ill-tempered Mudblood, then," he said, sneering.

"Hmm, and you wonder why people aren't nicer to you," Hermione replied evenly.

"I never wondered."

Hermione turned her head sharply in surprise, trying to remember the last time Draco Malfoy had agreed with her. She couldn't think of one.

"I have to know," he continued, scowling slightly, "why you said all that stuff tonight, and whether you meant it or not. It didn't sound right, coming from you; I wasn't dumb enough not to notice. Listen, Granger, I won't have someone playing with my head. Tell me the truth, did you mean what you said?"

Silence.

Then Hermione raised her chin defiantly. "Yes."

Draco looked skeptical for a long moment before sighing and running a weary hand through his white blond hair. "Look, Granger, I'm not the person you think I am, honestly," he said, looking at the carpeted floor.

Hermione scoffed amusedly and rolled her eyes.

"You're not a stuck-up, arrogant ex- Slytherin?" she said with a smirk.

"Well, I –"

"You're not a rich, attention-seeking snob?"

"Hey, you –"

"Underneath it all, you're not just a little boy afraid to go against big, scary Daddy's wishes in fear that if you become your own person, you'll be cast out and looked down upon as a traitor?" Hermione boldly continued.

Draco didn't speak, but blazing fury radiated beneath his cold grey eyes.

Hermione stared at him for a while, then said quietly, "I think I have a pretty good idea of who you are."

Draco sneered and gripped the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. "You don't know me. You don't know what you're talking about." He stood up abruptly. "Don't talk of things you know nothing about!" He was yelling now.

Hermione looked taken aback and shuffled a bit farther back on her bed.

"You didn't mean a thing you said," Draco spat disgustedly, pacing the room. "You think you know me? Well, I have news for you. You're a _liar._ You didn't mean all those pretty, empty words you said at dinner. I actually thought you were different, but you're just _pathetic_, Granger. Just a pathetic liar." He scowled and spun around to leave.

"I'm sorry."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks, turning suddenly at the meek voice that came from behind him.

"What?" he said, frowning.

"I said I'm sorry," Hermione repeated, with determination. "I had no right to talk about your family that way."

Draco narrowed his eyes and for the longest time, didn't move a muscle. Slowly, as if deciding it could be put off no longer, he began walking back toward her. He didn't leave Hermione's gaze, even as he seated himself on the edge of her bed. They kept staring, words flying in between their eyes as their mouths stayed clamped shut.

"I meant what I said at dinner," Hermione started simply, breaking the thick silence.

Again, the room fell silent as she awaited Draco's response.

But none came.

Draco finally tore his gaze away from the girl and instead fixed his eyes on the intricate, hand- woven stitches of the bed. His mouth remained firmly shut, but his mind raced with innumerable, messy thoughts. Not saying a word, he stood up, stuffed his hands in his pocket, and made his way toward the door.

Hermione watched his every step with a wary eye and slight curiosity. Upon reaching the door, Draco slipped quietly out and didn't look back.

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**(A/N) **How was it? I hope you liked it! Sorry for the long wait in between chapters, but I was working on a D/Hr fan flick! Yeah, it didn't turn out so well, so I decided that that video could wait. (: Hehe, I'm a lazy cow when I want to be. Like when I'm doing stats homework. Ah, dratted school. (: Anyway, please review, I would love to know how I'm doing! (: More to come!


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/the whole world/etc., belong to J.K. Rowling and Shakespeare. (: A lot of this next chapter are plot lines from Taming of the Shrew.

Hey everyone! Thanks for all the positive feedback for my last chapter! I'm so x1000 sorry for the horribly delayed update, especially those who were waiting patiently! I was suffering from a terrible case of AP exams/Piano exams/massive writer's block. ): But I made this one extra long as compensation. (: I'm really sorry if it disappoints you, I kind of had to squeeze in a lot of stuff. I pretty much dislike this chapter, but I really, really hope you'll still enjoy it!

Thank yous: coldblueblood (ahaha, it's okay, I love exclamation points!), GoldenAngel71, Roonil, strawberries, and Nikki! (Sorry about taking so long! --x) Thanks to you all, all your reviews seriously go appreciated. I really appreciate (is that redundant? ahaha.) your kindness. Thank you again. Snaps for you! (:

On to the chapter! I hope you enjoy it.

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Despite their interesting conversation that night, it seemed that Draco had taken none of it to heart; the rest of the week in Malfoy's house passed normally for Hermione. To Hermione's immense disappointment, no one had yet shown up to save her. _Where in the world is Harry? _Hermione often thought, frustrated. _After Ginny and I planned our escape, I expected Harry to show up the next day, barging through the door like the hero he is. And what about McGonagall? Ron?... _ Hermione felt a tear stubbornly squeeze its way through her eyelashes and run down her cheek. _Has everyone forsaken me?_

Hermione leaned forward in her chair and rested her chin on her hand, staring out at the clear black sky and round, full moon. _I know it's bad to keep lying to Malfoy,_ she thought, slightly exasperated with herself. _But I have to keep up this act if I ever want to get out of here. I mean, I'm not allowed access to my wand, I'm ordered around, Merlin, I'm not even allowed to go outdoors! I'm like a house elf! _

The door to her room suddenly creaked open, and Hermione spun around in surprise.

"We're going to Diagon Alley to buy your wedding dress," barked Draco. "Hurry up, let's get going, or Father will 'forget' you at home." He smirked.

Hermione's jaw dropped in confusion. "But it's midnight!" she objected.

"Silly little Granger," Draco laughed, baring his teeth. "It's morning already."

Hermione laughed a bit hysterically in disbelief. "Look-look out the window!" she gestured. "See the moon? It's night, the dead middle of the night!"

"Granger, that's the sun. I can't believe you got top marks in Astronomy, I've always said Sinistra favored you-"

"Hello? Are we looking at the same sky?" Hermione interrupted, amazed that someone could be so dense, "That's-that's the moon, the moon, that's the…" She trailed off, as if suddenly remembering something.

"What?" Draco asked sharply, seeing the blank look overcome her face.

"You're right," Hermione replied simply, quite vacantly, mouth agape. "You're right. That is the sun."

At her statement, Draco tottered slightly and smoothly caught his balance with the doorframe. _I don't believe it! _he thought incredulously. _My plan is actually working! First, her obedient speech, now this? Merlin's beard, I'm actually taming her! My plan is actually working! Hmm…. _

Hermione slowly stood up from her bed, put on a cloak, shrugged, and said, "Well, let's go, then." She brushed past the confused boy, a smile playing across her lips as she passed him.

He held out an arm to stop her, and then said testily, "I know it's the moon, Granger."

"Well then, it's the moon." She made a move to continue walking, but he held her back.

"You lie, it's the sun."

"Okay tell you what, when you make up your mind, I'll agree with you."

With this, Hermione forced herself to keep a straight, serious face, maintaining an impassive countenance. She could see Draco studying her through squinted eyes, examining her face for any sign of dishonesty. After an interminably long silence, he finally gave up and lowered his arm. Hermione pushed past him, nonchalantly strolled to the head of the staircase, and prepared to descend to the living room below. Draco, however, stayed still, contemplating on the odd change in the previously ill-tempered girl. _Curious…_ Draco thought to himself. _Has she really changed?_

He caught up with Hermione as she walked down the last couple of stairs onto the first floor, her hair bouncing slightly with each step. Lucius Malfoy was already downstairs waiting for the two children, blond hair fanned elegantly against a black high-collared coat.

Draco came to a stop in front of Hermione. _Let me try again…_ "Tell me, Granger," he started, "Have you seen my mother look more beautiful than she does today? Such red cheeks and dark eyes, tell me, and tell me truly."

Inwardly, Hermione scoffed. _Could he be any more obvious?_ But she inhaled and said vapidly, "You look beautiful today, Mrs. Malfoy. I especially love your cloak."

Lucius slowly turned to Draco, perplexed. His son gave a tiny nod, and Lucius shook his head softly, as if saying, _Merlin, what is that stupid boy planning now?_

"Granger, are you mad?" Draco snickered. "That's my father you're addressing, not my mother."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Malfoy," Hermione answered monotonously. "My eyes were temporarily blinded by the dazzling _sun_. Please forgive me for my embarrassing mistake."

Lucius gave a small, dismissive wave. "No matter, no time for such trivial matters," he snapped. "Let's just get going." He continued muttering under his breath.

He held out a pinch of Floo Powder for Draco and Hermione, and the three made their way into the large granite fireplace across the room. Lucius enunciated clearly, "_Diagon Alley_", and they disappeared in a swirl of green flame.

Sunday morning found Hermione Granger sitting, quite irately, on the steps in front of the Malfoy house.

Which was actually somewhat odd, seeing how it was her own wedding day and she was wearing the most beautiful and expensive dress she had ever owned, a gorgeous white gown designed by Madame Maulkin herself. Hermione sighed in frustration, blowing wisps of hair out of her eyes as she did so. Dozens of strangers surrounded her, all glancing at their watches or tapping their shoes impatiently. And to top off the bizarre scene, Lucius Malfoy stood at the head of the marble steps, muttering under his breath and occasionally wiping nervous beads of sweat off of his forehead.

"Where is that foolish boy?" Lucius grumbled murderously, pacing. "He said he would be back quickly with his dress robes… He's embarrassing me in front of all these people! My comrades! What will be said? What mockery will it be? Merlin, what if he disappoints our Lord?..."

"No shame but mine," Hermione cut in crudely, glancing up at Lucius.

"Patience," he spat, more to himself than Hermione, shooting another dirty look at his pocket watch.

Suddenly, as she was about to sink her chin back into her hand, Hermione spotted a small figure, stumbling over its large feet as it scrambled to reach the crowd of people. "Master! Master!" the house elf squeaked, bowing frantically. "Young Master Malfoy is here! He's here!"

The people simultaneously turned their heads at the sudden sound of consecutive footsteps crunching over gravel. The crowd parted, and Draco Malfoy, dressed in the most appalling outfit Hermione had ever seen, appeared. His dress robe, Hermione thought with a pang of reminiscence, was akin to Ron's at the Yule Ball during fourth year. Patches graced the front and back, the stitching was unraveling, and the left pocket had already fallen off.

Hermione stood up immediately, mouth agape in shock at the appearance of the boy she was being forced to marry. She stormed down the steps, carrying her train, and marched over to Malfoy, who was smirking with a sickeningly satisfied look.

"Oi, is this why you wouldn't buy your dress robes that night at Diagon Alley with me? So you could buy this?" Hermione growled, through clenched teeth. "You know, at first, I was angry, fearing you wouldn't show up. And now that you're here, I'm even angrier! Seeing the state of you!" She huffed, stomping back to the bottom step and plopping back down, stubbornly staring at the ground as if the answer to all her problems were written on it.

Malfoy chuckled softly, putting a hand in his solitary pocket and walking over to Hermione. He leaned against the marble column next to her and stared down at her head. She didn't look up.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," he drawled, "but I believe it's me you're marrying, not my clothes. And hadn't it occurred to you that maybe I wore this to make sure you were the center of attention instead? Hmm? Maybe I didn't want my devastatingly good looks to overshadow you on such an important day."

Hermione tensed, but her eyes remained obstinately fixed on the ground. "Or maybe," she replied coolly, "you're dressed like that to show everyone that you don't care much about this day. Maybe you're trying to pretend how little thought you put into it. So everyone can see that you're the one in control. That you're the one who doesn't have to be here. Draco Malfoy, I know how you think." She sniffed and raised her chin defiantly, glaring at him.

Draco swallowed and quickly and shiftily looked around to make sure no one walking by had heard their exchange. Then, he leaned down so that he was inches from Hermione's face, and hissed, "What's the matter with you, Mudblood? You were behaving fine before. Anyway, you heard Father, if you don't want trouble, you'll obey any given instruction. Now, let's go in. People are already being seated." He held out a hand to help her up, but Hermione didn't take it. She stood up herself and stomped loudly into the house, where the procession was starting.

Draco sneered and followed.

"Well!" Rita Skeeter huffed to her faithful photographer as they exited Draco and Hermione's wedding. "I don't know what that boy was thinking, showing up to his own wedding at his own house…looking like that!" She smoothed down her fuchsia dress and tapped her chin thoughtfully with her Quick Quotes Quill. "Poor Narcissa Malfoy," she dictated, while the quill scribbled furiously across a notebook. "A disappointed mother, heartbroken at her son's choice of wife, not to mention wardrobe. A family, torn in two. Ah, how…tragic." She laughed merrily and snatched the quill out of the air, turning to her photographer. "He's a devil, that Draco Malfoy!" she beamed.

"Why, she's a devil, too, that girl," he answered loyally, fussing with his large camera. "She looked like she was about to retch when she was asked to say 'I do'! Imagine that."

At that exact moment, Hermione Granger, always quite adept at timing, wandered out of the mansion with her arms folded, eyebrows furrowed, and hair blowing wildly, looking deep in thought.

_Merlin! _Hermione thought to herself, mentally slapping herself. _I can't believe I nearly blew my act…again! First, I lost my temper with Draco, then I almost couldn't say 'I do!'(Honestly, I nearly threw up in my mouth a little) If I keep messing this plan up, Ginny and I might never get to go home! Hermione, get a grip on yourself. You're officially married now…Don't lose it!_! She exhaled the crisp, clean air heavily and closed her eyes in mental preparation.

However, as she turned to walk back through the towering wooden door, Draco Malfoy exited it, hideous cloak fluttering and white-blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight.

"Now, now," he was drawling to the group of followers behind him, "I'm really sorry, but that's just the way it is. Please, though, feel free to enjoy yourselves, have fun, and eat." He hurried down the steps two at a time.

Hermione immediately rushed over to him and blocked him firmly on the bottom step, stopping him in his tracks. "And where are you going?" she asked him through clenched teeth, trying hard to force her lips into a smile.

"Ah," Draco replied, smirking, "Blaise is having a party at his house, I can't miss it. He hired the Weird Sisters to play and he's going to have life size chocolate frogs. Can't pass that up." Draco shrugged, still smirking, and pushed Hermione aside so he could pass.

"Please stay, I entreat you, Mr. Malfoy," the hired cook said, with a smile.

"Stay, I entreat you as well!" Rita Skeeter chimed in, waving her quill to get attention.

"Stay!" another woman yelled. And then another. Before long, the whole crowd erupted with similar demands for the newlywed to remain home.

Draco rolled his eyes up to the sky and sighed loudly, apparently waiting for the commotion to settle down. "When you all are done –" he started.

"I entreat you."

The crowd fell quiet as they turned to look at Hermione, arms still folded. You could have heard a wand drop in the silence that followed, it was so tense.

Hermione repeated, "Now, if you love me, stay. Let me entreat you."

The people simultaneously turned to stare at Draco. His jaw clenched, and he wordlessly twirled his wand between his fingers. Finally, after a long while, he spoke.

"Grumio, tell Father I'm leaving," he said quietly, not taking his eyes off Hermione. The elf nodded and scampered back up the steps.

Seeing this, Hermione narrowed her eyebrows and scoffed, shaking her head in fury. However, as she turned to stalk angrily back into the house, seething, Draco suddenly grabbed her arm.

Shocked, Hermione turned her head sharply. "What do you –?"

Not waiting for her to finish, Draco pulled her away from the crowd and muttering three well-rehearsed words, Apparated in a whirlwind of dust and gravel.

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**(A/N)** How was it? I really hope you liked it… I apologize if you didn't. ): Just a clue, don't worry your pretty little heads, Draco's not going to do anything mean and evil to Hermione…he's going to be quite nice, actually. Well, anyway, you don't really have to review this chapter, I honestly don't think it deserves one… but if you would like to share an opinion or just to keep me motivated, please review! (: It would make me feel quite cheered up. (: Anyway, it's almost spring break here, hope you guys all have/had/are having a great one! More to come! (:


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names/etc., belong to J.K Rowling! (:

Thank you's: coldblueblood (hehe, your review made me smile! thanks! oh yeah, actually the 3 little words were the apparition words…ahaha, I know, not very interesting, I like yours better!), american-born-confused-desi, GoldenAngel71, Eternally Night, and nikki! Thank you all for the support! You guys rock. Thanks for being wonderful and brilliant! (:

That being said, on to Chapter 9! ENJOY. (:

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"Oof!"

With a dull thud, the two teenagers landed roughly in a heap on the ground.

"Ow," Hermione grumbled as she tried to stand up, smoothing down her hair and rubbing her sore kneecaps, grimacing. About a meter away, Malfoy pushed himself to his feet and brushed the dirt off his sleeves silently.

"Not that I don't like to be dragged and side-along-apparated without my permission or anything," Hermione said sarcastically, with a sneer worthy of Malfoy himself, "but do you think you could tell me why you took me here?"

Malfoy didn't answer, but only picked another dry leaf out of his sleek blonde strands of hair. He gestured in front of him with a nod of his head and continued tidying his appearance.

Hermione turned around and silently gasped. A few meters down the hill where they were standing, she could see rows of stores and crowds of bustling people, all with bags and various sweets in hand. She spotted a redheaded child running around happily, clutching a brand-new broom, and a brunette one beside him, munching on a bag of Fizzing Whizbees. Couples sat contentedly outside shops, holding cups of coffee or butter beer. Her heart swelled with nostalgia.

Hogsmeade.

_But if this is Hogsmeade, then-_

Hermione turned her head slightly to the left, and she was met with a sight that made chills of happiness run down her arms. The Hogwarts castle, majestic and grand, loomed against the sun in the cloudless sky, like a lighthouse to weary travelers. The lake was visible from where she was standing, and the surface shimmered and rippled with every breath of breeze. After so many nights of dreaming about seeing the castle again, Hermione found herself breathtaken with the sight of her home at last. Her real home.

Happiness and relief overcame her, and Hermione sank down onto her knees in joyful tears. Now she could see McGonagall, Hagrid, Madam Pomfrey, Magda Eisenhower (oh, sweet Magda!), oh blast it all, she wouldn't even mind seeing Trelawney again! Hermione cried and cried, swearing to visit Harry and Ron at once, refusing to leave until they had rescued Ginny together… Tears ran down her cheeks and left her hands drenched.

She was free.

"Oh, get up," Draco finally said quietly from behind her. "I never said I was letting you go back."

Hermione stopped crying immediately and sniffled. _What?_ She turned around, getting to her feet. "What?" she said aloud, walking toward him slowly, step by step. "Then. What. Did. You. Bring. Me. Here. For? To torture me? To dangle my wildest dreams in front of me and then snatch it back? Why? Why would you do this to me?" Her voice cracked threateningly, and Draco was afraid she would burst into tears once more.

"Don't start crying again," he muttered, stepping back. "I just…we just need to talk."

"Oh, we need to talk?" Hermione whispered quietly, wiping tears away with her sleeve. "Why don't we talk about how you kidnapped me from my own school?" Her voice rose. "Why don't we talk about how I was forced into marrying you, just to fit some evil plan? Why don't we – ?"

"Please," Draco said, rubbing his throbbing head, "Just…can you just listen to what I have to say?"

Hermione quieted, but still stood with her arms crossed, a look of distrust written on her face.

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but closed it again. He shut his eyes and creased his brows in concentration, wondering how exactly to start the speech. When he opened his eyes again, he saw, to his surprise, that Hermione was fifteen meters down the hill, making her way toward Hogsmeade.

"Oi!" Draco yelled, chasing after her. He scuffled cautiously down the hill and caught up to the girl, yanking her around to face him. "That was a dirty trick you tried to pull," Draco said, sounding incredibly like a father who has caught his son stealing. "Here I was, trying to tell you something important, and the first chance you get, you try to escape! What's the matter with you?"

Hermione shrugged her arm out of his clutch and said simply, turning back around, "I was hungry. Can we talk over food?" Not waiting for an answer, she started down the hill again, stepping daintily from stone step to step. Draco had no choice but to follow.

Keeping at least ten paces behind her the whole way, Draco trailed Hermione to the Three Broomsticks and followed her to a hidden table near the back of the pub. Hermione seated herself and waved her hand for an attendant, completely ignoring the tall, skinny boy shadowing her.

An aged waitress shuffled over to Hermione as Draco seated himself at the table.

"Yes, ma'am?" she croaked, tucking a wand behind her ear.

Hermione skillfully and quickly rambled off an order of finger sandwiches, and the waitress then turned to Draco. "And for you – ?"

"That'll be enough," Hermione cut in crisply, smiling and folding her hands on the table. The waitress nodded and shuffled back to her spot behind the counter.

Draco scoffed, shaking his head, but didn't say anything. He rolled his eyes and looked at Hermione, who was now tapping her foot and staring defiantly at a spot somewhere above Draco's left shoulder.

"Can I talk now?" he started, somewhat sarcastically.

No response.

"Okay then," he sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just going to come out and ask. Who are you?"

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"I mean," he continued, "sometimes you're obedient and serving, sometimes you're annoying and stubborn, I have no clue what you're trying to pull here, Granger. It's like you have split personalities. Like I said before, I don't like having someone playing with my head. I really want to believe that you're truly obedient, but I know better. Just tell me, honestly, you're planning something. What are you planning?"

Hermione didn't move, but Draco caught a glimpse of panic pass in her brown eyes. "I'm not hungry anymore," she said quickly, tossing a few Sickles onto the wooden table and rushing out the door. Draco sat alone for a while, sighing and staring at his hands, and then got up and began followed after her. _I'm doing a lot of tailing after Granger today, _he thought as he quickened his pace. Thinking how ridiculous he was acting, he chuckled silently and then immediately stopped. _Merlin's Beard, I did not just chuckle. _He stuffed his hands in his pocket and turned the corner. He instantly spotted a wavy haired girl sitting and leaning against a nearby tree, wearing a muddied wedding dress.

Draco stepped quietly over fallen leaves and twigs until he reached Hermione. He sat down next to her and dangled his arms over his knees. She didn't acknowledge his presence. They both sat there for a while, with only the sound of the warm breeze whistling through the leaves.

"I'm neither," Hermione finally broke the silence, as if choosing her words carefully. "I'm not arrogant. I'm not obedient. I guess I'm just…scared."

"Of what?"

"Of what might happen to me if I acted like my true self. So I had to act the way I did."

"Nothing would have happened to you," Draco said quickly, voice catching at the lie. _Okay, so she would have been killed, but no need to bring that up…_

"Don't lie."

"Fine," Draco muttered, looking up at the sky. "But I just want to tell you, it wasn't my idea. My dad was the one…"

"The one to what?"

"Forget it." Draco fumed inwardly. _I almost gave away the plan! _He gritted his teeth. _What is this girl doing to me?_

Hermione glanced quickly at Draco and then sighed. "Please," she started softly, "I hope you won't let anything happen to me. I mean, a few days ago, you said I didn't know anything about you. And you were right. I don't. But I really, really, hope that deep down, you won't let me worry anymore. Just don't let anything happen to me. If you promise me that, I'll stop this act."

Draco swallowed, his face impassive.

_What am I going to say? 'Yeah, sorry, Granger, you're never going home, it's too late, you have no choice, and you're eventually going to be murdered? ' Gee, way to impress the Dark Lord. _He sighed, unsure where to bring his thoughts next. _I hate that Granger actually has hope for me. For the first time, someone actually believes I could be someone else than this evil Death Eater son… maybe I can finally show everyone that I'm not my father… _Draco's head felt dizzy with uncertainty._ Merlin, she's making this so damn confusing!_

"Er," Draco started, stalling for time.

Suddenly, he glanced over at Hermione and saw the genuine hope and expectation shining in her brown eyes.

_She really believes in me... _

"Fine," his voice strengthened, "I'll take care of it."

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**(A/N) **How was it? I really hope you liked it! Please review to let me know your thoughts! (: Gah, spring break is almost over for me. In three days, I will once again face the wrath of evil teachers, larger than life portfolio projects, AP testing, state testing, and the looming SAT's. –sighs resignedly- (: So I probably not be updating for a while. I'll really try, though! Anyway, hope you're having a better time than me! (:


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N **Yes! I'm back! My SATs are (for a while, at least) over, and my first AP's are done for now. And with the advent of summer (two days!) and only two final exams left, I have written the next chapter during my two-month break. (: Yay me! However, beware, this chapter is not based on TOTS, since at this point in the story, the book plot has ended. But no worries! If my plans work out, after this sickingly pointless chapter (sorry!) I shall be incorporating a short part of another Shakespeare play into here. So… for now..

**Disclaimer**: Characters/names/setting/etc., belong to her majesty JK Rowling. (:  
I hope you enjoy!   
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The sun was starting to set on Hogsmeade, and the clear blue sky eventually became painted with pink and yellow streaks. Many storeowners began lighting their lamps and preparing for evening shoppers, and lunch menus were swiftly changed to dinners with several flicks of wands. From Hogsmeade Hill, two teenagers could be seen sitting together under a tree, and if you didn't know their story, it would have seemed quite a romantic scene.

The bushy haired brunette turned slightly to face her tall handsome partner.

"Thanks," Hermione said, lips slowly turning upward into a smile.

Draco said nothing.

She didn't turn away and continued to smile, eyes fixed with a faraway glaze, at Draco.

"What?" he finally said, feeling her eyes on him.

Hermione blinked, shaken out of her reverie, and smiled. "Nothing," she said, still wearing a remnant of a smile. "You just…you remind me so much of my neighbor from back home."

"Hogwarts?"

"No, my actual home." Hermione pursed her mouth slightly at her comment, but continued, "You two have the same hair, practically the same eyes. Anyway, we were such great friends; we used to have so much fun together –"

"Fun?" Draco drawled sarcastically, "By that, do you mean you guys hid out in libraries, reading textbooks and discussing theories? I can hardly imagine such fun."

The corners of Hermione's mouth twitched, as if she wasn't sure whether or not to laugh. Finally, she let out a reluctant chuckle and shook her head. "No," she scoffed, laughing. "We absolutely did not. In fact, he and I used to play football during the summer months. When I wasn't busy doing homework or visiting the Weasleys, of course."

"Football?" he snorted. "You?"

"Yes," Hermione sniffed. "Is that so hard to believe? Plus, he was a Muggle, so it wasn't as if I could just call him up for a game of Quidditch."

"Well, you probably should have, your Quidditch skills are abysmal."

"And how would you know that?"

"You obviously didn't hear any of Weasley and Potter's conversations about you while we were at school, then." Draco grimaced subconsciously at the mention of his old enemy's name, and continued, imitating Ron's deep voice, "'Well, Hermione's been improving at Quidditch.' 'Harry, do you remember that one shot Hermione made at my house over the summer?' 'Wow, Harry, we could teach Hermione that shot this summer!' I swear, that Weasley used to talk about you so often, it would be surprising if even Crabbe didn't pick up on something once in a while."

Hermione's smiled softly with reminiscence, remembering how Ron always did tease her about Quidditch, how he looked when he was confused, how his voice always stuttered when he was nervous, and how…

Without warning, Hermione's smile faded and her brown eyes suddenly filled with tears. _Oh Merlin,_ she thought._ I miss Ron, so much…and Harry. Ginny, Fred, George, Luna, everyone …To think, I may never get to see them again…_

Hermione sat still for a second, chin resting on her knees, a tear running silently down her cheek.

"You miss him."

Hermione looked up at Draco, giving him a sad smile. "I guess so."

He nodded dispassionately, as if slowly digesting her words.

"I don't know," Hermione sighed, stretching out her legs. "I don't really want to talk about it -"

"So, the Chudley Cannons," Draco cut in smoothly, making Hermione laugh aloud in amusement.

Draco smirked.

By the time, the sun had gone down, Hermione and Draco had finished an extensive conversation about everything from the Quidditch Cup to old Hogwarts memories. After all, when you're sitting on a deserted hill with another person (particularly one who is your newly wedded spouse), the polite thing to do is to make conversation. Even so, formalities aside, Hermione found herself quite enjoying the presence of her kidnapper, and even vice versa. Draco found Hermione's opinions on topics interesting – he had finally found a conversationalist that could match his intellect and not bore him halfway to tears.

The evening progressed, and eventually, bright, luminous stars began to shine down on the small village of Hogsmeade. Every few seconds, a small puff of wind would rush through the trees and disturb Draco's hair, and once it passed, every sleek strand would fall neatly back into place. The two both knew they had to get back to the mansion sooner rather than later, yet neither of them made the first move. Instead, they sat a while longer in silence, simply watching the sky darken.

All of a sudden, through the corner of her eye, Hermione spotted a flash streak across the sky.

"A shooting star!" she gasped fondly, elbowing Draco with excitement. "Quick, make a wish!" she said, and squeezed her eyes shut.

As Hermione hastily made her wish, she heard Draco's voice drawled quietly, "Merlin, don't be stupid, it's probably just that Diggle and his fireworks… what has that man found to celebrate now? Probably bought some new dress robes or finished his dinner… shooting stars…so first year…" His voice drifted off.

Hermione finished her wish, opened her eyes, and laughed. "Why do you always have to act like you're so high and above little childish things, Malfoy?" she asked, half-joking.

He smirked, but didn't say anything.

"Don't you want to know what I wished for?" Hermione asked.

He didn't look at her. "To go home?" He barely whispered it.

"Not exactly."

"No. Don't tell me," he said firmly. "Then it won't come true."

Slowly, Hermione broke out into a smile. "I knew you had it in you! Look at you, being childish! I'm very pleased." She punched him lightly on the shoulder.

Draco chuckled softly and pulled out a pocket watch. _It's nearing 9, _he thought. _The reception is most likely over, and Father must be wondering where we are…_ "We should be heading back," he said aloud, getting to his feet. Hermione did the same. As he prepared to apparate, Hermione pulled his arm and turned him to face her.

"Thank you again," she said, staring up at him. "Really, I feel like a great burden has been lifted from me."

Draco, who had never been particularly skilled at accepting thank-you's (or giving them, for that matter) only stared back and nodded. "Do you want to go home now?" he asked simply.

"Yes," Hermione echoed. "Let's go home."

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**A/N **How was it? I hope you liked it! (: Please leave me a comment and let me know what you thought/ what I should do different/ what I should continue doing/ what you had for lunch/ anything! (: I would greatly appreciate your opinion. Thank you! It's great to be back. (:


	11. Chapter 11

Disclaimer: Characters/names/setting belong to J.K Rowling. Thanks! (:

Thank you's: Blackcoat245, Golden Angel 71, coldblueblood, x.tears-n-roses.o, American-born-confused-desi, and sarah!  
Thank you, seriously, you guys are what makes stories worth writing. Thank you for the continuing support, it means a lot to me! (:

(A/N) Hello! As I mentioned last week, the TOTS part of my story has ended, and I have inserted another story plot to finish it off. (: Three cheers for the person who guesses which classic this one is. (Hint: not Shakespeare.) I hope you enjoy this chapter! (:

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Millicent Bullstrode sat on Pansy Parkinson's large lavish bed, swinging her feet around and sighing loudly. "What are you doing? You're taking forever," she complained, with her trademark grumble.

Pansy smoothed out her sleek black hair and rolled her eyes. "If I've told you once, I've told you a million times," she retorted to her friend, "I need to prepare for this lunch. Mrs. Malfoy invited me over today, and I need to look halfway decent so I don't embarrass myself."

"Are you sure that's the only reason, Parkinson?" Millicent teased.

Pansy couldn't suppress her smile. "I guess it's kind of because of Draco, too," she grudgingly admitted. "Maybe he'll see what I'm missing and dump that Mudblood once and for all." She tried on the dress robes she picked out for the occasion and spun around with a flourish. "All done!" she sighed happily. "How do I look?"

Millicent tilted her chin in concentration. "Like bad news."

Pansy smirked and spun back around. "Good."

Hermione awoke to the sound of birds and the sun seeping through her thick, ruby curtains. She yawned, pushed back her blankets and sat up, noticing a pile of paper on her bedside dresser. Rubbing her eyes, she picked up the stack of Daily Prophet and quickly skimmed the headlines. _Battle Between Death Eaters and the Order Rages On. _Hermione frowned sadly in spite of herself, and flipped quickly through the following pages. She had long since abandoned all hope for her rescue. _They're obviously busy fighting, _she consoled herself. _Once the war is over, they'll rescue me._ Suddenly, she noticed a bookmark placed discreetly between a page of advertisements. She leaned in closer to read the tiny article, complete with a moving picture of a man with darkened eyebrows and singed hair, shaking his fists in frustration. _Wizard No Longer Allowed to Use Fireworks,_ the headline read. Apparently, Diggle's fireworks had been mistaken for shooting stars by more than a handful of suspicious Muggles across London. Hermione slowly broke out into a huge smile and snorted. _Malfoy sure has a sense of humor, _Hermione thought, surprised. _When did he drop this off? _

But before she could contemplate on that query, she was interrupted by a knock at her door. She hastily jumped out of her bed and threw on a coat. "Yes?" she called at the unknown visitor.

The door to the room clicked open and Draco Malfoy stepped inside, furrowing his eyebrows at the sight of Hermione, not yet fully awake.

"Er," he started, running a hand through his hair, "I have something for you." He rustled through the pockets of his own coat and produced a thin package, wrapped tightly in old Daily Prophets and rolls of twine. Hermione smiled faintly and took it from him.

"What's with all the secrecy?" she asked, tearing past layers and layers of paper.

"I didn't want Father to find out I had gotten it for you," he replied simply, impassively examining his nails.

Hermione unfurled the last sheet of parchment and grinned at the vine wood wand with dragon heartstring core sitting in her hand.

"Thank you for getting my wand back," Hermione smiled, crumpling the excess garbage and levitating it. "Thank you for trusting me again. It means a lot to me."

An awkward silence ensued, in which Draco considered whether or not to say something – it wasn't really his nature to reply to genuine thank-you's. Finally, he settled on coughing slightly into his hand, and said, "Oh yeah, er, Pansy Parkinson is coming over to lunch in a few hours. You remember Pansy?" Without pausing for an answer, he continued, "It wasn't my idea, trust me. My mother and hers are good friends. Just…promise me you won't jump out of your chair and stab her with your fork or something. All I'm asking is for you to keep your temper. Please."

Hermione had not yet recovered from the shock of receiving this news, and took a moment to shut her gaping jaw. "Pansy?" she growled through gritted teeth. _I can't believe I have to have a civilized meal with the girl who lived to make Harry and Ron's lives miserable. And mine, not to mention,_ Hermione fumed to herself. Images of Pansy conducting 'Weasley Is Our King' on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch flitted through her head, and she clenched her knuckles so hard they almost turned white.

"Er…what's wrong with you?" asked the ever so articulate Draco.

Hermione shook her head. "Nothing," she sighed resignedly. _If Draco is going to go through a lot of trouble to protect me, the least I can do is eat lunch with Pug-faced Parkinson,_ Hermione thought. "Looking forward to it," she added, as an afterthought.

Draco nodded and turned to leave. Watching his retreating back, Hermione called out, "Thank you for the newspaper, by the way."

Draco stopped in his tracks upon reaching the doorknob and turned back. "I told you it was Diggle," he said with a pompous smirk. "Shooting stars, my arse. Who was right? Hmm, that's right, I believe that would be me."

Hermione scoffed and smiled. "You better leave before that head of yours gets too big to fit through the door," she retorted.

"Ah, but you're mistaking my head for your hair, Granger," he quipped back.

"Oh!" Hermione cried out, amused. "How original! I really don't know how you come up with such wounding comments, Draco Malfoy." She clamped a hand to her heart with mock hurt. "You know, I do think I'm heartbroken now."

Draco's eyes followed Hermione's hand and lingered there for a moment too long. His mouth curled into another infamous smirk. "Do you want me to try and fix that?"

Hermione's cheeks flushed, but she quickly regained her poise and simply laughed his comment off. "Just get out of here," she smirked, and chucked a frilly pillow from her bed at Draco's tall frame.

He dodged it just in time, and the pillow bounced harmlessly onto the ground behind him. He tossed it back onto the bed and gave Hermione one final smirk before closing the door.

Draco stepped into the cool hallway and sighed. _It seems that I've done it – Granger has been successfully tamed,_ he thought. _But my job isn't over yet…if I'm going to keep my promise, I'm going to have to find a way to keep her alive._ His head pounded, and he rubbed his eyes in frustration. Taking a deep breath, he descended down the stairs.

As Hermione listened to Draco's fading footsteps, she tried to shrug off the unusually quick pounding in her chest that grew fainter with each of his steps.

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That afternoon found Hermione seated at the Malfoy's mahogany dining table, wearing a beautiful teal sundress and a surly expression. She stabbed into her salad mindlessly as she listened to Mrs. Malfoy's ceaseless flattery, and to put it quite simply, arse kissing, of Pansy Parkinson.

"Oh, Pansy," Narcissa gushed, "how lovely to see you again! I saw your mother at Gringotts the other day, and she all but insisted I invite you to lunch today! How could I refuse her, right?" She tossed her perfect blond ringlets behind her shoulder and winked at Pansy. "Make sure you put in a good word for me at the next D.E. Wives meeting, dear, then?" she laughed with a twinkle, as if she had just uttered the wittiest joke in history.

Hermione rolled her eyes, eliciting a sharp kick under the table from Draco.

"And you look absolutely gorgeous, dear," Narcissa continued, "I see time has been on your side!" Pansy smiled with sickening sweetness, and Hermione had the sudden urge to devour a handful of salt. "Don't you think Pansy looks stunning today, Draco dear?" Narcissa asked, turning to face him.

"Uh huh, yeah," he replied without looking up, allowing white blond strands to fall into his face. Pansy's smile wilted a little, as did Narcissa's. There was an uncomfortable silence.

"Well," Narcissa finally began again, voice a bit uneasy, clasping her hands together. "I'm going to get Grumio and tell him to start preparing the desert. Why don't you kids…er.. mingle?" She nodded and smiled curtly, and excused herself into the kitchen, leaving three utterly perturbed teenagers in her wake.

As she sat at the Malfoy's table, Pansy Parkinson had resigned herself to the fact that her lunch with them had been a failure upon arrival. Her own attempt at becoming beautiful and slim had been outshined by Hermione Granger, who, at the prime of her youth, had become a completely different person than she had been at school a couple of years ago. True, she still had that hideous bushy hair, that odd bump in her nose, and not even near flawless skin, but the truth came down to it – Hermione Granger was not repugnant. In fact, Pansy had been disappointed to find that Hermione had grown into her long, slender limbs and had smoky, almond shaped eyes that held almost as much meaning in them as Draco's grey ones.

Overcome with a bout of indignation, Pansy fumed inwardly. _How dare this Mudblood think herself worthy to be married to Draco Malfoy? I know Lord Voldemort demands it, but why would Draco choose her! And I hate seeing her little smug expression. She's taunting me! _Pansy clenched her fork and chewed her chicken a bit too forcefully. She cleared her throat.

"So, Hermione," she began, "How is married life treating you?"

Hermione swallowed the water that she had been sipping in surprise. "Erm, fine," she answered, a bit hesitantly.

Pansy gave an innocent laugh. "If someone had told me back at school that a nerdy Gryffindor Mudblood would get married before me, I would have laughed them out of the room!"

Hermione's mouth stretched into a thin line. Draco set his fork down with a clatter and glared up at Pansy. "That's enough," he said, with quiet anger.

"What's wrong, Draco?" Pansy asked, a hint of taunting in her voice. "Don't like that word? You're the one who taught it to me – don't you remember? Back in first year, I remember you telling me, 'That Mudblood is getting on my last nerve. She's so annoying and unbelievably full of herself. I don't understand how anyone would want to be near her for more than a second!' Don't you remember that, Draco?" Her eyes glinted with malice.

Draco clenched his jaw and swallowed. When he spoke again, it was obvious that he fought to keep his voice steady. "I said, that's enough, Parkinson," he spat, eyes betraying his anger.

Pansy registered Draco's cold use of her surname and the maniacal shine in her eyes slowly extinguished.

"Sorry," she sighed, picking up her napkin and folding it on her lap. _Merlin, I almost lost it,_ Pansy thought to herself, wringing her hands in thought. _I wonder when they're going to get rid of Granger. After they use her for the Dark Lord's plan, I suppose. I wonder if they have put the plan in motion yet…_

"Any children yet?" Pansy asked Hermione sweetly. She spared Draco a quick glance and saw, happily, a hint of panic flash behind his eyes. He was frozen in mid-chew.

"No," Hermione replied coolly, still stung by Pansy's previous retelling of that first-year incident. "Why?"

Draco was starting to worry slightly. _Hermione can't find out about the plan! Not after I told her nothing would have happened to her. What does Parkinson think she's doing?_

"Pansy, I think it's time for you to leave," Draco said icily, getting up from his chair.

Hermione stopped him. "No, wait," she said, eyes narrowing at Pansy. "Why do you ask?"

"You know why he's married you, for the plan –" Pansy started, only to be silenced by Draco, who pounded his fists on the table.

"Get out of my house, Parkinson," he said quietly. "Get out now."

Silence.

Pansy's mouth opened, making a small 'O' of indignation. She raised her chin and attempted an air of decorum. "Fine," she spat, getting out of her chair and throwing on her coat. "I was just on my way."

Hermione and Draco watched as she sauntered toward the large wooden door, walked out, and slammed it closed behind her. Finally, all that could be heard was Hermione's heart beating and Draco's slowed breathing.

Draco looked over at Hermione, whose eyes were slightly out of focus and mouth slightly separated in thought. "Er," Draco started, clearing his throat. At this, Hermione looked at Draco as if seeing him properly for the first time.

_He's still lying to me,_ she thought with shock. _There's still a plan for me, I'm still going to be used. He promised me…_ Hermione's eyes burned with imminent tears, so she set her napkin neatly on the chair, got up, and made her way upstairs.

Draco, not moving a muscle as Hermione stormed away, gritted his teeth with fury and frustration. _Damn Parkinson,_ he seethed, clamping and unclamping his fists. He sighed. _I've ruined it. _

Narcissa chose this moment to reenter the dining room, clasping her hands together and singing, "Desert's ready!"

Upon seeing that her only audience was her angry, brooding son, she sighed, to no one in particular, "I guess the girls don't want any apple tarts, then."

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(A/N) How was it? I really hope you liked it! Please review and tell me what you thought! (:


	12. Chapter 12

Disclaimer: Characters/names/etc., belong to J.K Rowling. (:

Thank you's: Blackcoat245, coldblueblood, Phoenix Feather Queen, niki, elixirgurl, and JK Rowling the 2nd! Thank you so much for the continuing support! You guys certainly deserve snaps. (: I'd give you snaps if I could! Virtual snaps. (: But seriously, thank you! You guys motivate me to write more!

On to the chapter! Take 2 teaspoons, and enjoy! (:

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Hermione slammed the door to her room open and closed it shut behind her, making a beeline for her bed. She plopped facedown onto the covers and lay there, motionless, for several minutes.

_I'm not safe here, _she realized. _If there is actually a plan, it's not going to be a good one, obviously. And the evil way Pansy smiled.. the way Draco tried to hide it…I'm sure they're going to use me for evil. I have to get out of here. Enough waiting around. _

She stepped out of her bed and began pacing the room, deciding what would be the best plan for escape. _Run away? I wouldn't have any idea where to go! Hide? No, they'd definitely find me. And there's no one I can talk to or go to for advice… _Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lip. She felt almost on the verge of tears.

Suddenly, Hermione heard a crack at her window. Her eyes snapped open, and she jumped, lunging for her wand. She held it steady and walked slowly, step by step, toward the window. Cold sweat broke out on her forehead, and her knees trembled just a little under her dress.

The window latch opened.

_I'll just curse them, _Hermione thought rapidly. _Petrificus Totalus._ She rehearsed it quickly in her head.

The window pushed open, and Hermione tried to muffle her beating heart. _Who's there? _she attempted to say aloud, but found that her vocal cords couldn't quite function. The intruder's hand came into view, then a mop of messy jet black hair, followed by…

"Harry!" Hermione choked out in disbelief, dropping her stance and rushing over to help him in. "How-how-"

Her sentence was cut off by the entrance of another painfully familiar redhead, climbing into the room.

"Ron?" Hermione was breathless and overcome with emotion at the sight of her best friends again, after nearly three years. She almost shook with sheer joy, and her heart felt as light as one's could be in such dangerous times. Tears were streaming messily down her face, yet she hardly seemed to notice.

"How did you two get here!" she cried, enveloping them both in a huge embrace.

Harry, who was a bit more disheveled and weary than Hermione remembered, scratched his head and scrunched his eyebrows. "Well," he began, "after that night Ginny contacted me, Ron and I asked his dad if he could give us Malfoy's address. But in fact, he'd lost his position and privilege to access the Death Eater addresses. So, we had to break into the Ministry." He paused for Hermione's forthcoming scolding, but none came. Thus, Harry continued, "After we found the address, Ron and I Apparated as close as we could to the house, then we scaled the wall and climbed in." He grinned and sighed deeply. "We really missed you, Hermione."

Hermione smiled. "Aww," she sighed, "That is so sweet. Thank you both so much." She leaned forward as if to embrace Harry, but instead slapped him lightly on the cheek.

"Hey!" Harry cried in surprise. "What was that for?"

"That was for taking so long to get here," Hermione joked. "You have no idea what I had to go through with Malfoy! I felt like everyone had forsaken me!"

At this, Ron stepped forward. "Hey, do you know how long it takes to sneak into the Ministry? It's a tough job!" he cried indignantly, freckled face turning red. "All these people walking around, all the dodgy security goblins…" He continued grumbling under his breath, eliciting a genuine laugh from Hermione. She loved the feeling she got when she was around Harry and Ron.

And she loved that she could finally feel it again.

"Well, let's get out of here," Hermione smiled, a bit anxious to leave before she could find out exactly what plan Malfoy had in store for her. "Did you get Ginny?"

Silence. Ron's face hardened, and Harry shot him a nervous, knowing glance. Hermione's heart dropped – something about their looks didn't sit well with her. "W- what is it?" Hermione asked, voice shaky.

"Well," Harry began, "We came to get you first so we could look for Ginny together…you see, Ginny has, er, run away. Zabini has sent his men to hunt her down. We don't know where she is."

Hermione was shocked. "Run away? Why would she do that? I told her to stay put so we could rescue her! I told her! I made her promise!"

Harry nodded comfortingly. "I know, Hermione, it's okay. We'll find her, okay?" He and Ron patted her kindly, and Hermione took a deep breath to calm herself.

Suddenly, they heard quick footsteps pattering up the stairs.

"Shit," Hermione cursed, snatching her wand where she'd left it. "Let's get out of here, Malfoy's coming!" She stuffed her feet into her trainers and shrugged on the jacket she had been wearing on the day of her capture. The three teenagers sprinted as fast as they could move to the window. But they were too late.

The door swung open, and an old house elf wobbled in slowly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Where is Mistress Malfoy going?" Grumio questioned warily.

Hermione inhaled sharply, racking her brain for a believable alibi. "Erm," she started, clearing her throat. "Master Malfoy has asked me to run a few errands – buy a few things for him in Diagon Alley. I was just about to go .. er.. now, with these kind salespeople that have promised me a good discount. They have been very caring." She smiled nervously at Harry and Ron, who nodded and played along.

"And why is Mistress Malfoy and salespeople going out the window?" Grumio asked guardedly.

_Damn, _Hermione thought, irritated. _This elf is smarter than I anticipated. _

"Because," she replied loftily, as if Grumio was doing nothing but wasting her time, "I wouldn't want to disturb Master Malfoy and his mother during lunch. They're still eating, you know, and I can't exactly waltz past them with these men. That would be most rude and disturbing, if you would understand."

Grumio said nothing, but only continued squinting at Hermione.

Finally, Hermione sighed and grabbed a quill and a spare piece of parchment off of her nearby desk. "Fine, here," she said to Grumio, scribbling rapidly on the paper. "Give this to Malfoy. I've revised the list of supplies he asked me to buy. Tell him the teal tablecloths would be much more flattering than the black ones he's so keen on purchasing. Don't read it, just give it to him and ask him if it is acceptable." She finished writing, folded the parchment into a tiny piece, and held it out for the elf.

Grumio took it cautiously and gave one last suspicious look at Hermione. "Yes, Mistress." He finally succumbed to Hermione and shuffled out of the room.

Hermione gave an audible sigh of relief once Grumio was gone, and spun around to face her friends. "Come on, let's go. Now." She picked up the hem of her dress to move faster, and ran to the window. Harry sensed the urgency in her voice and all but leapt down the ladder. Ron made a move to follow, but then stopped and turned back to Hermione. "After you, _Mistress Malfoy_," he said, with a trace of bitterness in his voice.

Hermione barely had time to roll her eyes good-naturedly before climbing out the window herself.

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Downstairs, Grumio had just reached Draco Malfoy. "Master," he grumbled, shuffling to Draco's chair, "Mistress Malfoy says to buy teal tablecloths, not black." He held out the note Hermione had written.

Draco raised his eyebrows and took the piece of parchment. He rubbed his temples with a hand and said irritably, "What are you talking about?"

"Nonsense," Narcissa huffed loudly, oblivious to tension, "Teal _may_ be the latest trend, but black is classic and always will be. I tell you, I've never been one to follow the crowd."

Draco widely ignored his mother and quickly unfolded the note. His eyes skimmed swiftly over the yellowed parchment, and his knuckles became whiter with anger at each passing word.

_Draco, _the note began, _Zabini's men are after Ginny. Went to go save her. Don't bother looking for me. I'm in good hands. So sorry to ruin your plan. _(The sarcasm was not lost on him.) _–Hermione._

After he had finished, Draco set the note in his pocket, heart pounding. He set off in the direction of the winding staircase at once and climbed it two at a time. Hermione's note, above anything, hurt him. The curtness of her writing. The stilted sarcasm that seeped through the paper. _It's as if everything we'd been through was nothing to her,_ Draco contemplated acerbically. _She didn't even thank us for such hospitability. _

He reached her room, slammed the door open, and, not unpredictably, found it empty. The window was open, curtain fluttering in the wind. _Shit, _he thought, _She did escape. _

Suddenly, there in Hermione's room, it dawned on Draco that perhaps this was the neat ending to his dilemma. He had promised Hermione that he would protect her –that he would do his best to prevent her untimely death. _So isn't this exactly what I had wanted? _Draco thought. _Now she escapes and gets to live happily ever after, for the rest of her days. She's free, and I could truthfully say I had nothing to do with it, even with the aid of Veritaserum. Everyone wins. _Although this thought should have reassured him, it did nothing but frustrate him. And he couldn't figure out why.

But then, all in an instant, Draco realized something. He realized that, in real life, there are no 'happily ever afters'. There are no 'neat endings', all tied up with a ribbon and presented with no strings attached. But above all, he realized that he was unsettled because of one reason – he didn't want Hermione to leave. He didn't want Hermione to live happily ever after, away from him.

He wanted Hermione back.

He wasn't quite certain exactly why, but he had lived so long without someone to talk to, without anyone of equal intellect to debate with, without… a friend. _If she would even consider us that,_ he thought angrily. _I mean, come on, we were married, albeit meaninglessly, after all. _Draco fished the note out of his pocket again, and devoured the words again for clues to where she could be. The second word jumped out at him and hit him like a brick. _Zabini!_ he thought triumphantly. _Zabini's after Ginny, and Hermione's after Ginny. Zabini would know where they should be. _And although it pained him to do so, for the first time in his life, he would actually have to go to Blaise Zabini for help.

Draco shuddered.

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(A/N) How was it? I really hope you liked it! Please review and let me know what you thought! Thanks! (:


	13. Chapter 13

Disclaimer: Characters/setting/names/etc., belong to HRM JKR. (:

Thank yous: passerby, witchgoddess101, prowlingkitkat, stalkqueen, coldblueblood, elixirgurl, sarah, nocturnal007! thank you everyone! you all deserve tons and tons of applause for your support! (: -claps for you all-

Take 2 teaspoons with food, and enjoy! (:

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The Zabini mansion was, in many ways, similar to the Malfoys' – white, spotless, and ominously cold. When Draco stepped up to 77 Iniquity Ave., he was hit with a similar wave of evil he often felt when coming up to his own house. _I wonder if they sell a scent for that,_ Draco thought, slightly amused. He climbed the set of stairs before coming to the grandiose door. Since Draco had owled in advance to let Blaise know he had something "important" to discuss with him, he was not surprised to find the door unlocked, passively allowing Draco entrance. The Zabinis and Malfoys had always been acquaintances on friendly terms, more or less, after all.

A house elf scampered hurriedly to Draco upon his arrival and bowed. "Master Zabini wants Curtis to show Mister Malfoy to the meeting room, sir," he squeaked. "Please, follow me!"

Draco allowed himself to be led up the staircase and around several corners before arriving at the meeting room, empty and emotionless, much like Blaise himself. After pleasantries had been exchanged between Blaise and Draco, Curtis bowed himself out of the room and left the two men alone.

"So, I gather you have something important to tell me?" Blaise smirked, fiddling with Draco's note, lying open on the table. His eyes were overly cold for someone his age.

Draco did not waste any time. "I take it Ginny's run away," he said simply.

Blaise immediately froze and his face became ashen grey, as it always did when he was embarrassed. Draco recognized Blaise's expression as the same one he wore when Draco had caught him helping out an injured Ravenclaw in the hallway at Hogwarts.

"Who told you?" Blaise whispered furtively, eyes darting around, as if he were worried that the walls had ears.

"I have my ways, Zabini," Draco muttered, trying to keep one step ahead of Blaise to maintain an apparent authority. "It doesn't matter now. Just tell me, where are your men?"

"I don't know," Blaise said airily. "Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you. All I know is that they have a map, and they're following it. I told them they could only contact me when they find Ginny. So."

Draco almost growled in frustration, but held it in. Instead, he closed his eyes and exhaled patiently. "And do you have this map?"

"Of course -"

"I want it." Draco cut him off sharply.

Blaise looked at him curiously, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you so interested in Ginny all of a sudden?"

"It's not Ginny I'm interested in."

"Oh!" Blaise laughed. "Has your Mudblood run away from you as well - to look for Weasley?"

Draco scowled. "I wish you wouldn't call her that."

"It's my house, and I'll say whatever I damn well please, Malfoy." Blaise turned his fiery gaze to Draco, and continued, "Don't tell me you've fallen in love with that _Mudblood._ Have you forgotten who you are?"

Draco was infuriated with Blaise's lofty tone. "No one is saying anything about love, Zabini," he spat back. "I just need Granger back for the plan."

Blaise laughed again, a haughty, arrogant laugh. "Can't wait for that, can you, my friend? I'll bet!"

Impatient now, almost to the point of anger, Draco growled quietly, "Are you going to give me the map or what?"

Blaise smirked and leaned back in his large chair. He clamped his bony hands together and waited a while before speaking.

"And what would I get in return?"

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Hermione, Harry, and Ron stood motionless on top of Hogsmeade Hill shortly after apparating there, where Hermione and Draco had shared a rare friendly evening only a few days before. The three held hands subconsciously, as if all united in a joint effort to search for Ginny. Hogsmeade was bustling with activity, yet up on the hill, the atmosphere was solemn.

Hermione was first to break the silence.

"Do you think Ginny will be here?" she asked quietly.

Ron turned to her. "No," he replied honestly. "But it won't hurt to look."

Harry and Hermione nodded, eyes fixed on the village below them. Wordlessly, they made their way down the hill, stepping carefully to avoid the rocks and sharp weeds. They rapidly sped through all of Hogsmeade, thoroughly searching every nook, cranny and store, only stopping for a short rest in the Three Broomsticks as the sun moved directly above them.

Hermione downed her butterbeer and set it loudly down on the table. "All right, I'm done," she sighed, wiping her mouth with her napkin. "Let's get going and keep looking."

Harry and Ron nodded without thought, both pairs of eyes glazed over with reminiscence as they glanced quickly around the small pub, as if they wanted to remember as much of their past as possible. Hermione recognized their look and smiled sadly.

"I know," she whispered softly, placing her hands over her two friends'. "We all wish we could go back to those times. But things are different now. We just have to accept it." Her eyes suddenly stung with tears, but she quickly willed them back into her eye ducts. She was not going to cry. Not here. Not now.

Harry and Ron looked up simultaneously and both sighed resignedly. Ron tossed a few Sickles onto the table for Madam Rosmerta and the three set out once more, the bell on the door ringing shut behind them.

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Blaise Zabini smirked and considered Draco's offer. "Certainly took you quite a while to admit that," he grinned, reveling in the moment for as long as he could prolong it.

Draco grimaced, obviously feeling the complete opposite. "Well, I would do pretty much anything right now to get Hermione back," Draco said icily. "My life and status as a Death Eater is on the line, so don't think too much on it, Zabini. I'm not doing it for you."

Blaise kept on smirking, clearly enjoying Draco's discomfort. He picked up a piece of folded parchment off his desk and handed it to Draco. "The map," he said simply. "The black dots symbolize where my men are at the time."

Draco took it and gave it a cursory glance. He didn't thank Blaise, but simply nodded and turned back to the door.

"Oh," added Blaise, as an afterthought, "I will be expecting my side of the exchange soon."

Draco turned back around, scowling. "Consider it done."

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Meanwhile, back in Hogsmeade, the trio's rescue mission was proving quite fruitless, much to their disappointment.

Hermione, tired and sweaty, plopped onto a bench outside Zonko's. "We've been everywhere," she lamented. Let's try somewhere else. Do you think she might be hiding in Hogwarts?"

Ron sat down wearily beside her, scratching his head in thought. "I don't know, Hermione, I just don't know." He was soon joined by Harry, and the three teenagers gave a simultaneous sigh. Hogwarts gleamed in the brilliance of the sun, a few miles away, yet it evoked nothing in Hermione this time but fatigue and worry.

Suddenly, she felt Ron tense beside her.

"What is it?" she asked nervously, putting a hand on his.

"Diagon Alley," he muttered, "Ginny's at Diagon Alley."

"How could you possibly know that?" Hermione asked, sounding quite like her old, bossy self.

Ron gave her an "it's a sibling thing" look and replied, "When she was younger and would get in arguments with Mum, she would always run off for a while and come back in the morning. I never quite knew where she went, until Fred and George came to visit one day and let slip that Ginny would hide out in their joke shop all the time. That must be where she is now. And if not, well, it really won't hurt to look."

"But hasn't Fred and George's shop closed down?" Hermione asked. Indeed, Fred and George had sadly closed their joke shop a few months ago, in order to fulfill their duties to the Order.

Ron nodded grimly. "Yeah," he replied, "but the store itself is still there. I know where the spare key is, but I don't know if Ginny does. Can we try nonetheless?"

"Of course, Ron," Harry agreed, placing a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Let's go." The three stood up, brushed their sweat off their brows, and moved into an open space to prepare for Apparation.

In a swirl of dust, Hermione felt herself being squeezed unpleasantly through a tube for a few seconds and then, as quickly as the feeling began, it ended, and she blissfully felt her feet touch solid ground. She brushed herself off and looked around for Harry and Ron. They were already beside her, trying to dodge the few shoppers in the alley. Unlike Hogsmeade, which was closer to the haven that is Hogwarts, Diagon Alley was hit hard by the recent crises and lost a significant number of shoppers and shops alike. It pained Hermione to remember what Diagon Alley used to be like, so she willed the thought out of her muddled brain.

Together, a team of three, a trio, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way toward run-down Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

They didn't know what they'd find there or whether or not all their effort would be a waste of time, but all three knew that they had to do it together.

After all, that was the way things used to be. They did everything together. And, in such a time of uncertainty, they wanted the security of knowing at least one thing remained the same.

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(A/N): How was it? I hope you liked it! Please leave me a review to let me know what you thought! Many thanks (: OH, and if anyone watched pirates2 over the weekend, please also include what you thought! I'm really curious to know what others thought of the movie. Thanks again! I want popcorn. (:


	14. Chapter 14

Disclaimer: Characters/names/setting/etc. property of HRMJKR. (:

Thank yous: coldblueblood, prowlingkitkat, witchgoddess101, and blackcoat-245! You guys make writing so worthwhile! (: Thanks for all your support, guys! you deserve more snaps! (:

I hope you enjoy!

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Hermione was the first to see what was right in front of them.

She shoved lightly past Harry and Ron, eyebrows narrowed, mouth slightly agape. "Wait…is – is this it?" Hermione stopped in front of a barren, boarded up store window, looking slightly confused. Harry and Ron walked briskly up and stopped behind her.

"Er," Ron replied, clearly just as much at a loss for words as Hermione was.

The three continued staring blankly at the store, which was empty and completely indistinguishable from its neighbors. Hermione remembered a happier time, when, at the advent of Voldemort's power, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had boasted colorful signs and posters spreading optimistic (and at times, perilous) cheer. She had always felt an unexplained sense of pride toward Fred and George for not yielding to the fear of Voldemort, as many of their fellow storekeepers had done at the time. Now, though, she found an odd disappointment gripping at her heart – she felt as if even the boldest of people had succumbed to the Voldemort's wrath. Even though Hermione knew that Fred and George had no choice but to close shop, she could not help but to feel immensely let down.

She sighed, and turned sadly to Ron. He was fidgeting with his wand, eyebrows furrowed as he attempted to recite the spell that his twin brothers had placed on the lamppost to reveal the hidden key.

"One step back…no, it was forward…Umbridge is a cow…or was it toad? Stupid gits, why did they have go and make such a complicated charm?"

Harry and Hermione stepped back to give Ron room to think – they had long since learned to beware of Ron's wayward spells.

As they continued to watch Ron mutter to himself, each became oddly conscious of the other's presence. Hermione shivered involuntarily, and Harry put a comforting hand on hers. She drew back subconsciously, and Harry stared at her, surprised.

"Hermione, when are we going to talk about this?" Harry asked gently.

"There's nothing to talk about," she sniffed.

"How about why you married Malfoy?"

"I didn't really have a choice."

"What?"

Hermione sighed. "I didn't really have a choice," she repeated firmly. "I was kidnapped. For-" Her voice wavered. "For his plan." Her heart sank at she remembered how genuine Draco's promise had been, how she had almost believed him, how she thought he had finally changed…_I was so wrong,_ she thought, crestfallen.

"Did you ever find out what the plan was?" Harry asked.

"No. Pansy was about to tell me, but Draco chased her out before I could learn of it."

Harry was silent for a long while before asking, hesitantly, "Did you ever end up…liking Malfoy?"

Hermione was taken aback at Harry's straightforwardness. She remembered how she had spent hours in conversation with Draco, learning about his childhood and aspirations, how he had retrieved her wand for her, and how, just recently, her heart had sped up at the sound of his footsteps coming up the stairs for another one of their clandestine talks, full of biting wit and entertaining repartee… _No,_ Hermione thought. _No, at the very most, we were friends. That is, until I learned that he was betraying me, stabbing me in the back, making me believe he was different…_

She had to fight back tears as she turned to Harry. "No," she answered, lips pursed, voice stronger than she felt. "No, I never, and will never like Draco Malfoy."

Harry never got to reply, because at that moment, Ron shouted gleefully, "I got it!" He held up a large brass key triumphantly and cried out, "I remembered it!"

Harry and Hermione immediately rushed over and congratulated Ron on such an achievement, and in silent agreement, neither broached the topic of Hermione's marriage again.

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The key fit perfectly into its archaic lock, eliciting anxious cheers from all three people. Ron turned the doorknob and audibly gulped. The door creaked open and he stepped into the store, followed by Harry and Hermione, whose wands stood at the ready.

Harry and Ron began searching the corners of the store, feeling past the dusty shelves that once held cages of Pygmy Puffs and Spell Check Quills, boxes of Bloody Nougats and the ever-popular Instant-Swamps.

"Hello?" Hermione called out tentatively from the center of the store. "Anyone here?" She had no idea why she was so nervous. The store had been locked for months, no one would be hiding in it besides for Ginny. _Calm down,_ she thought, her breathing slowing. _It's not like anyone's going to be around the –_

"AHH!" Hermione let out a high-pitched squeal as she felt something latch onto her ankle. Her wand clattered onto the floor and the boys rushed over to her side.

Connected to Hermione's dainty ankle was a white, thin wrist, and connected to the white, thin wrist, was…

Ginny.

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Ron bent down and peered under the table where Ginny was hiding.

"Ginny!" he cried scratchily, and pulled his frail sister into the open. Ginny was covered with old jellybeans, her only source of food for the past week. She was thin and her hair hung limply behind her ears. Ron embraced her with all the love of a long-lost sibling, and she weakly hugged him back.

All the while, Harry stood off to the side, cheeks burning with a mixture of discomfort, awkwardness, anger, and sadness. Ginny noticed this, and breaking her embrace with Ron, walked slowly toward Harry.

His eyes downcast, he muttered, "I hate whoever did this to you."

Ginny sighed and tried to meet Harry's eyes. "It's nice to see you again too, old pal," she attempted to joke. For a fleeting moment, Ginny's old self blazed behind her dead eyes, but disappeared as Harry remained rigid and impassive.

When Harry refused to acknowledge her, Ginny resignedly moved over to Hermione. The two girls smiled at each other and hugged. "I told you we'd be free one day," Ginny whispered into Hermione's frizzy hair. Hermione nodded wordlessly, mouthing the questions she couldn't bear to ask.

Harry asked them for her.

"Why didn't you stay put like Hermione asked you to, Ginny? You didn't trust Ron and I to keep our promise?" Harry looked pained.

Ginny was slightly taken aback at Harry's hostility, but understood that he was simply taking his conflicting emotions out on her. She tried to be gentle. "Harry," she sighed, closing her eyes. "I'm sorry if I caused you guys any trouble-"

"Don't apologize, Ginny," Hermione cut in quickly, throwing a dirty look at Harry. "We understand."

"Blaise was horrible," Ginny went on, more to Harry than anyone else. "If you could have seen the way he treated me, you would have told me to escape too. And with the first chance I got, when he went to visit his parents, I seized it. I had to, you have to understand."

"We do," Hermione and Ron insisted simultaneously.

But Ginny had only eyes for Harry. "Harry?" she said tentatively. "I'm sorry."

Harry shook his mop of black hair, not speaking. Finally, he said dispassionately, "Blaise didn't treat you right."

"No," Ginny replied, clearly relieved that Harry had caught on.

She walked closer to Harry and gently put her arms around his waist. He hugged her back. They were silent for a long time before Harry murmured, "It's nice to see you again, old pal."

Hermione smiled at the sight of her two old friends and stamped her feet slightly. It was getting a little cold. She felt a breeze touch her cheek, and, suddenly, with a chill running down her back, remembered that there were no open windows in the store. Heart plummeting, she turned her head slowly toward the door.

In it stood the unnerving silhouette of Blaise Zabini.

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Sorry for the uber late update (hey, a poem!) and uber short chapter, but my parents have cracked down on my computer usage after my less-than-perfect SAT scores came in. --x OH! If anyone is interested in my oh-so-drab life, my friend recently met Oliver and James Phelps at her community pool! They were visiting their cousin, who lives in our little suburban California town. Isn't that amazing? Okay, I'll shamelessly admit I cried when she told me because I wasn't there, but, in retrospect, I have to say, that was amazing. Please let me know what you thought of my chapter, by the way! I love rambling. (: Thanks a million!


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer: Characters/setting/names/etc., belong to JKR. Some dialogue in this chapter is from Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. (Excellent read, btw.) (:**

Thank you's: coldblueblood, Sam's firefly, ProwlingKitKat, Nothing rhymes with Orange, Witchgoddess101, niki, Queen of the Scoubies, and sarah! You guys are excellent- merci beacoup! Thanks for all the support and motivation I need to keep writing. You all rock. (:

I hope you enjoy!

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"Aw," Blaise scathingly remarked from the doorway. "Isn't that sweet."

Hermione was almost convulsing with disbelief as Blaise stepped into the room. "No," she whispered, shaking her head violently. _No, _she thought. _No, we were so close…so close._ Hermione felt like a starving woman crawling toward a plate of food; and at the last possible moment before she reached it, it was snatched away, leaving the sweet aroma still lingering in her nose before crashing. _Five minutes ago, we were all free,_ Hermione thought, tortured. _Five minutes ago, we had a future…_

A deafening cry pierced the shocked silence, and it took Hermione a few seconds to realize it was coming from her own mouth.

Blaise immediately turned to her, looking disgusted. "What're you yelling about, Mudblood?"

"No," Hermione repeated, softer. "I won't let you take Ginny back. Or any of us."

Blaise chuckled, and Hermione noticed the hazy outlines of more men standing outside the shop. "That's really not up to you to decide, Hermione Granger," he spat.

He then turned to Ginny. "Did you really think I wouldn't find you, you pathetic girl?" he snarled. "Come on, it's time for you to go home." Ginny's eyes filled with tears, and Harry tightened his protective hold on her.

"You'll have to go through me first," Harry said, glaring at Blaise.

Blaise's eyes lit up. "No problem," he laughed, reaching for his wand.

At that instant, Hermione jumped in front of both Harry and Ginny. "No," she whispered to a shocked Harry, who was trying frantically to push her out of the way. "You and Ginny will have a future. I'm not going to let you act the hero again and get yourself killed."

"Hermione!" Harry whispered back, trying to shove her away. "Don't do this! Get out of the way!"

Blaise pulled out his wand.

"Hermione!" Harry hissed, trying to move around Hermione's rigid figure. "Move!"

Blaise brandished his wand.

"Ron!" Ginny cried. "Do something!" But Ron, frightened, could only stand stock-still, face ashen.

Blaise mumbled a spell.

Hermione closed her eyes and braced herself for the impact of Blaise's worst curses. _At least I'll die doing something useful, _she thought. _Not scraping snail guts off the floor…_

Loud crashes suddenly erupted behind her as Blaise's curse undoubtedly hit several of the old shelves. Hermione snapped her eyes open in surprise. _How did he miss me?_ she thought incredulously.

Her heart jumped.

Draco Malfoy, in all his brooding splendor, had appeared and shoved Blaise's wand arm sharply to the left, diverting the curse out of Hermione's way.

Blaise cried out angrily, "What do you think you're doing, Malfoy?"

But Draco widely ignored him, instead choosing to walk determinedly toward the cowering Hermione. Seeing this finally incited Ron out of his frozen terror, and he lunged forward, wand first. "Don't you dare touch her, Malfoy!" he cried, voice cracking in a very Ron-like manner.

Again, Draco coolly ignored him and instead, disarmed him easily with a well-placed "_Expelliarmus_". He did the same for Harry as he jumped in front of Hermione, and then for Ginny, perhaps just for good measure. The three wands expertly soared into his outstretched hands. Within ten seconds, Draco had managed to disarm almost everyone in the room. In her terrified delirious state, Hermione could not help but be impressed.

Draco stared at Hermione, expression unreadable. _Is he angry? Annoyed? _Hermione gulped. _Murderous?_

But Draco was none. "I promised to protect you," he started quietly, as means of explanation.

Hermione was about to speak, and then remembered the freedom she had been so close to achieving and the plan awaiting her. Her face flamed. "Protect me?" she hissed. "The only reason you stopped Blaise from pulverizing me was to keep me alive to drag me back to your house again, where I will either be killed or forced to live like a caged animal for the rest of my life! Don't try and pretend you meant to protect me when all you're after is your plan! And the worst part is-" she lowered her voice. "I believed you the first time."

Draco said nothing and showed no proof of having heard her at all. He appeared to be deep in consideration, and he wiped some blond bangs out of his face. After a long silence, (during in which Blaise asked hesitantly, "Do you want me to kill her now, mate?") Draco seemed to remember he was not alone in the room. He sighed and opened his mouth to speak.

"Hermione," he started, sounding incredibly annoyed at having to make this speech, "In vain I have struggled. My feelings will not be repressed. This is why I came after you. I can, with time, learn to accept your inferior birth and your petulant love for arguing, because I need your cynical remarks and good conversation with me. I need you, even if as just a friend. Hermione, you must allow me to tell you how much I admire you and need you."

Hermione's astonishment was beyond expression. The blood drained from her face, and her fingers felt numb. She swallowed, blushed, and then looked down at her feet. For a long while, she could not muster the words to speak. Finally, she decided on replying, "I am sorry if I had caused you torment, Draco- believe me, it was unconsciously done- but I can't go back to what I just left. I can't live like that." Her voice hardened. "And I won't let you make me."

Draco seemed shocked at Hermione's reply. He obviously struggled to maintain a calm composure, and would not settle for losing his temper. Finally, he said, in a forced, condescending calmness, "I wish to know why, after I just saved your life, practically opened my damn heart to you, and attempted to be civil (do you know how hard that was?), I am thus rejected."

"Are you actually asking me why I'm rejecting you?" Hermione cried out, exasperated. "You lied to me, Draco! Or do you not remember that? I wouldn't think it beneath you to not remember how you led me into a web of lies with your empty promises and pretty words, made me believe I was safe with you, and just went right along with your evil plan. You don't care what happens to me!" She wiped at the tears that were threatening to spill out of her eyes and sighed deeply. She looked at Draco's pale face and continued, quieter, "I have every reason in the world to think ill of you. You cannot deny what you have done to me."

Draco, as usual, showed not even the faintest indication of being affected by Hermione's tirade.

She asked again, "Do you deny it?"

"I don't deny it."

Hermione's heart plunged at his words- they confirmed what she had previously been afraid to believe as true. But she attempted to arrange her face in apparent satisfaction, and then said, trying to keep her voice steady, "Well, then."

Draco was silent. "So this," he said, twirling the three wands he had gained, "is your opinion of me. This is how you think of me. Thank you for explaining so fully, Granger."

She noticed his renewed use of her surname. "From the moment I met you at school," she explained, "you impressed upon me your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain for the feelings of others, which have built for me an immovable hatred. Even though I had no say in the matter, I felt, and still feel that you are the last man in the world whom I could ever have been prevailed to marry."

"Okay," Draco cut her off roughly, sneering. "You've said enough. I get it. Stop explaining. I can't believe I even bothered coming after you." He shook his head. With that, he threw the wands he was holding angrily against the wall, where they clattered onto the floor, and hastily left the shop.

Blaise made a move to follow him, but then turned back, muttering, "Oh right, forgot Weasley."

"Zabini," came Malfoy's cold voice from the door. "I think my side of the deal was sufficient enough in covering both Weasley and Granger."

"But, but," Zabini stuttered, staring daggers at Ginny.

"I can gladly revoke it right now."

Blaise looked as if he was about to say something, but only whispered, stuttering, to Draco, "But what will the Dark Lord say when he finds out I've lost my tool for the plan?"

Draco replied smoothly, "That's highly unlikely to happen. But if he just so happens to find out, just tell him I talked you out of it. I'll take full responsibility."

Blaise was speechless, staring at his friend with a mixture of respect and anger. Ginny's heart pounded in the palpable tension. An eternity seemed to pass as her future hung in the balance, unsure of which way to fall.

"Fine," Blaise finally growled, throwing up his hands in mock defeat. "Okay, fine. If you will. Weasley wasn't exactly the best company around the house anyway." He deigned to give a last glare at his four enemies before stomping out of the store after Draco and the rest of his men.

After the men had all Apparated and left, the four friends stood together in shell-shocked silence. For a moment, no one moved or spoke. Then Ginny sunk to the floor, sobbing with apparent relief. Harry and Ron immediately moved to comfort her, to tell her everything was going to be okay. Hermione, however, stood glued to her position, staring at the spot where Draco Malfoy had just told her how much he loved her, where she had rejected him, where he had just saved all their lives. Tears welled in her eyes, and the tumult in her mind reached painful levels.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned sharply to see Harry watching her intently. "What?" she snapped accusatorily.

"You didn't want to turn him down," Harry said straightforwardly.

"I didn't want to go back to that life." Hermione averted her gaze.

"You didn't answer my question."

"You didn't ask one."

They stared at each other, both not speaking. Harry sighed. "Well, are you going to be okay?"

Hermione swallowed and looked down at her feet so Harry could not see her tears. "Yes," she replied softly. "Yes, I think we're all going to be okay now."

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(A/N) How was it? I really hope you liked it! Please comment and let me know what you liked or disliked! Thanks! (: Wow, I use a lot of exclamation points. ! I love ice cream. (:


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: Characters/setting/names/etc., belong to, as usual, HRMJKR. (:

Thank you's: Thank you to Queen of the Scoubies, ProwlingKitKat, Sam's Firefly, coldblueblood, Nothing Rhymes with Orange, WeasleyGirl09, nomanslandvicki, and sarah for the support! Thank you all for motivating me; I really appreciate it!

(A/N) I got a couple of reviews and messages asking if this was the end of the story- no way! (: Hee. I usually give a chapter's warning ahead. No worries- it'll be awhile. (: Oh, by the way, this is kind of an explanatory chapter, so I apologize in advance if you get bored midway. But don't skip too many important parts, now! (: On to the chapter!

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It had been several weeks since Hermione had turned Draco away that fateful day in Weasley's Wizards Wheezes. After they had collected themselves and left the joke shop, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and she had needed a place to stay so that the Order could reach them if need be. Fortunately, during their three week stay at the nearby Leaky Cauldron, that need had not arisen.

Hermione sighed and stared out the window of the inn, onto Charing Cross Road. It was very early in the morning, and the sun was just starting to spread its pink rays over the sleepy little town of Diagon Alley. Hermione watched storekeepers diligently set up their merchandise and rearrange window displays in preparation for the day ahead.

A knock at the door surprised her, and she turned around quickly. Someone had slipped a stack of paper underneath her door. _Oh,_ Hermione sighed. _It must be Tom with my Daily Prophet._ She tiptoed past Ginny, still asleep on the bed they shared, and leaned down to pick up the delivery. Flashy pictures and headlines tried their best to call Hermione's attention to them, but her attention was already drawn elsewhere. Within the yellowed pages of the Daily Prophet lay a small white envelope, blank save for Hermione's name scrawled in the center. She recognized the handwriting at once. She carelessly dropped the newspaper on the wooden floor, eliciting a sleepy grumble from Ginny, and, with trembling fingers, hungrily tore open the envelope.

_Hermione,_ it read, _don't dare flatter yourself by thinking that I am writing to apologize or to beg for your eternal love, for I am doing nothing of the sort. I simply feel that we have both (namely, you) met with a misunderstanding and I will now attempt to clarify things. First, there is something I have to get off my chest. Not long ago, I confronted you and questioned your suspicious double-faced personality- at times, you were obedient and serving, and at others, you were insufferable and argumentative. I told you that nothing would have happened to you had you acted as yourself. That was a lie. You would have been used for the plan, no matter what personality you took on. But then you asked me to protect you, and I promised I would. That was not a lie. In fact, right up to the day Pansy arrived for lunch, I was still pondering ways to forgo the plan. Pansy only supposed that I was still involved in the plan because I never told her (or anyone) that I was risking everything just to help you. Well, I can't put all the blame on you, no matter how tempting it may be- I was also quite infatuated with the feeling that I was disobeying my father, along with everything that is expected of me. I guess you could say I was feeling rebellious. So, trust me, I never planned to go through with the plan; Pansy only assumed I was. Although I cannot reveal what said plan was, you have to know that you were never in danger with me. (I mean, after that day in Hogsmeade. Prior to that, you were in quite a considerable amount of danger. But no need to bring that up now. You're gone anyway.) Just wanted to let you know this so you don't go around badmouthing and spreading stupid hearsay about me. And I also wanted you to know I did enjoy your company last month and would like to continue our conversation on the legality of fireworks in the wizarding world sometime in the near future. And you probably don't trust me, but I meant every word I said in the joke shop. Just so you know. Have fun with Pothead and the Weasels.  
-Draco. _

Hermione read the note, it felt, in one breath, and upon finishing, she let out a heavy gasp, filled with astonishment and embarrassment. "Merlin…how could I have been so stupid?" Hermione slapped her forehead. "Of course Pansy would have supposed that Draco was still acting on the plan. No one knew about our conversation on Hogsmeade Hill. Of course Draco wouldn't have told anyone!" She was suddenly overcome with a bout of shame. "The way I acted toward Draco was despicable," she whispered, running a weary hand through her frizzy hair. "He risked everything to help me, not to mention just saved all of us from Blaise." She paced the room, and another realization sent despair down to her toes. _And he saved my life. _ With this, Hermione's knees gave out and she toppled onto a nearby chair, rubbing her temples. She screamed noiselessly into her hands and stomped her feet in utter shame.

Ginny wearily sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes. "What on earth are you doing making all that noise?" she muttered irritably, pushing back her blankets. But upon seeing Hermione's distressed state, Ginny leapt to her side at once. "Hey, what's the matter?" Ginny asked soothingly. "Are you okay, Hermione?"

Hermione sighed, rolling Draco's letter in her fingers until it wrinkled. "I hardly know," replied Hermione, voice cracking. "I hardly know."

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"I knew you would come to your senses someday, Draco," Pansy snipped happily, ladling a spoonful of soup. "I'm so glad you left that Hermione Granger. We never did like her much at school, right?" She sipped daintily.

Draco did not answer, and his mind kept jumping irritatingly back to Hermione. _I wonder if she got my letter yet. I wonder what she's thinking. I wonder if she even cares. _He shook his head and sneered.

"What are you thinking about, Draco?" Pansy snapped, leaning toward him.

Draco muttered something incomprehensible. Pansy had long since learned not to expect anything more.

Suddenly, the door to the small sitting room opened, and Grumio stepped in, big ears flapping as he bowed. "Master Malfoy," he stammered, "Mistress Malfoy has returned! She has!" As he uttered this, Hermione Granger stepped in, looking quite hesitant and awkward.

Draco stood immediately, almost knocking over his chair in the process. "Hermione?" he squinted as if to make sure she wasn't an illusion.

"Good heavens, Granger," Pansy snapped, "Did you walk here?" She looked with disdain at Hermione's jeans, which were muddied and raveled with years of wear.

Hermione stared incredulously at Pansy for a while before replying, "Yes. Yes, Pansy, I walked here. I thought it was such a nice day today," she gestured to the window, where heavy drizzle was splattering outside, "that I should take a light three-hour stroll from Diagon Alley to Malfoy Manor."

Draco's lips curled upward in amusement. Pansy, however, oblivious to sarcasm, only drank her tea and said, "I don't see why anyone would want to do that."

Hermione bit her lip to keep from smiling. "Neither do I," she said with a straight face. She turned to look at Draco. "Can I talk to you outside?"

Pansy's head jerked up. "Why do you need to talk to him outside?" she asked suspiciously.

"Because," Hermione answered quickly, "I thought we should take advantage of this beautiful weather while it lasted." And before Pansy could reply, Hermione had stepped into the hall, Draco following hesitantly behind her.

The two walked through the hall and down the marble steps that led to a wooden bench in the garden. The drizzle was already starting to seep through Hermione's hair, but she didn't mind.

"So why did you come here today, Hermione?" Draco asked guardedly as he sat down next to her.

Hermione looked down at her lap. "Well, I received your letter. And…I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I doubted you. I'm sorry that I didn't thank you for saving us. I'm sorry you had to go through all this trouble when I just-"

Draco held up a hand. "Okay, okay," he said, "I get it. You're sorry."

"For everything." Hermione frowned. "Well, except for the part where you kidnapped me from Hogwarts. But you also let me go and didn't kill me in the process, so I guess you don't have to apologize for that."

Draco smirked and shrugged. "Okay then."

Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. "So now what?" she asked softly, wringing her hands.

"Do whatever you please," Draco answered coolly, smirk fading.

"You won't be angry?"

"You underestimate me, Hermione. I'm not that desperate for female companionship."

"Ah, because you have Pansy."

"I wouldn't go that far as to refer to Pansy as companionship. Or female, since we're on this track."

Hermione laughed heartily at this, some raindrops trickling into her mouth. The rain pattered steadily on the cobblestone walk, forming small puddles that muddied Hermione's jeans. Hermione sighed. "Let's stay in touch," she said quickly. "Keep writing to me at the Leaky Cauldron, and after a few more weeks, just owl me." She wasn't about to reveal the headquarters of the Order that they would be moving back into soon… to the son of a Death Eater, much less.

Draco ran a hand through his white blond hair, which was now dripping wet, and leaned back in his chair. Since he was so tall, his legs stretched out much farther than Hermione's own. He sighed, "Okay."

"Gee," Hermione laughed. "Don't act too eager now." Draco chuckled.

"Do you know what I wished for on that shooting star that night?" Hermione suddenly asked.

Draco didn't miss a beat. "You mean the fireworks?"

"Yes. Fine, the fireworks," Hermione indulged him.

"What?"

"For us to understand each other."

Silence.

Draco smirked. "Well, I'd say that worked out quite according to plan."

Hermione smiled. "Yes, I'd say so as well."

They were quiet for a moment, feeling the rain soak slowly through their cloaks. Hermione shivered from the chill, but was not willing to leave just yet. Suddenly, Draco turned to her and stared curiously.

"What?"

"Your hair," he replied. "The rain is wiping out that disgusting frizz."

Hermione fingered a lock of her hair, now lank and wet in her hand. "Oh, yeah," she said airily, "it always does this when it's wet."

Draco did not avert his gaze.

Hermione sneezed and wiped her nose quite unattractively on her arm. "Er, I think I should be getting back now," she said, between another sneeze. She stood. Draco followed suit.

They both stood there awkwardly, quite uncertain of what to do next.

"Well," Hermione sniffled, breaking the silence, "Thanks again, Draco, for everything- for saving us, for letting us go, for protecting me. I'm sorry I acted like such a git."

Draco nodded once, smirked, not unkindly, and held out his hand.

Hermione's eyes crinkled up in amusement and she threw her arms around his waist instead. He stiffened in her embrace. "Why do you always have to act so high and mighty, Mr. Malfoy?" she laughed. Draco exhaled and awkwardly put an arm around Hermione as well. He patted her shoulder and leaned close to her ear. "But I still say fireworks should be illegal," he whispered jokingly, sending goosebumps down Hermione's limbs. Her chilled feet and hands instantly recovered, and she shivered involuntarily. She felt as if someone had just doused her with hot water.

"W-well," Hermione stammered indignantly, hoping Draco could not feel her suddenly pounding heart, "they've never hurt anyone. And any event or celebration has become fitting for fireworks. The nursery rhyme about Guy Fawkes-"

Draco put his chin lightly on Hermione's head. "Ah, give it up," he smirked. "You know I'm right; I could probably even get Dedalus Diggle to vouch for me."

Hermione relaxed in his arms and sighed, smiling. _This is so bizarre..._ But no matter how surreal the moment was, she could not help but feel utterly and completely comfortable, something she hadn't felt in an interminably long time.

That is, until she opened her eyes and saw Pansy's bloated face, now almost as red as Ron's hair, peering out from the sitting room window.

Hermione reluctantly drew back and laughed, "I don't think Pansy looks very happy."

Draco rolled his eyes and drawled murderously, "Does she ever? I swear, it could be raining crystals and Galleons and all the girl would do is complain about the dratted English weather."

Hermione laughed giddily, enjoying the company of her new friend and the light raindrops on her head. "That miserable cow," she pronounced, giggling.

Draco joined in. "That foul lard."

"Insufferable pansy."

"Bitter hippogriff."

"Hippogriff? Is that _really_ the best you can come up with?" Hermione grinned up at Draco.

He scoffed and put a hand to his chin in thought. "Obviously my insult-making prowess is not appreciated by everyone," he smirked. "Fine. Hmm. Pansy is, let's see, as useless as a one-legged man in an arse-kicking contest."

Jaw dropping, Hermione then burst into a fit of knee-slapping laughter, as Draco simply stood by, looking quite pleased with himself. Between her incessant giggles, Hermione managed to stammer out, "Yeah? Well, she's…a few Knuts short of a Galleon!"

Draco snorted. "A few Knuts short of a Sickle, more like."

"A few 'Knuts' short of a man!" The words had not so much as left Hermione's mouth before she clamped a hand to close it. _I cannot believe I just said that,_ she thought, mortified.

For a split second, Draco looked as if he were about to laugh. But he simply dismissed her and replied, shrugging, "Hmm. No, she's not."

At this, Hermione burst into giddy (not to mention relieved) laughter once again, and Draco watched, an amused smirk plastered across his face. All the while, raindrops pelted them both unrelentingly, soaking them down to the bone. Their hair were dripping messily into their faces. Their cloaks were weighed down with the collected water. Their limbs were one more hour away from achieving frostbite.

Yet, at that moment, neither of them seemed to care.

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Please let me know what you thought! (: Summer is slowly coming to an end, and as I enter perhaps the hardest school year of my life, I might fall behind on updates. I shall try as hard as I can though! Thanks, all. (:


	17. Chapter 17

(A/N) First off, I have to apologize for the brevity of this chapter! I actually meant for this one to be the beginning of the next chapter, but it got ridiculously long, somewhere along the lines of 4 straight pages. So I was forced to cut it to a good ending, and the end result is the short chapter displayed below. I'm sorry and promise to make it up one day! Ah, also a special note to coldblueblood-- thanks for all the great questions! I apologize for not answering them yet, but I promise that my next chapters shall answer them all. Thanks for bringing any potential plot holes to my attention! I might as well include my disclaimer now- characters/setting/etc. belong to JKR. Some plot points belong to J. Austen. Hope you enjoy!

Thank you's: ProwlingKitKat (because Pansy's jealous. duh. Lol. :), Queen of the Scoubies, WeasleyGirl09, Sam's Firefly, Nothing Rhymes with Orange, sarah, Xmiss.michelleX, gisele, allthecharminonebottle, coldblueblood, lalia x, dreamcatcher 27, and niki! thank you so much for all the reviews- they certainly go appreciated. you are all brilliant people. (:

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"Where were you?" Ron's shrilly yell bombarded Hermione's throbbing head the moment she stepped into the inn. (It seemed that Apparating while soaking wet was part of the recipe for a splitting headache. _Apparently, so is the annoying cry of a certain red headed friend, _Hermione thought bitterly.)

Hermione waved dismissively, and answered, "Ron, not now. I need to get upstairs- my head…"

Ron would have none of it. "When you didn't show up for breakfast, we were about to set the Order to find you!"

Hermione glanced at Harry, who quickly shook his head as if to say _I had nothing to do with it_.

"And we were trying to get Ginny to tell us, but she wouldn't budge. That stubborn git!"

Ginny was sitting in one of the chairs with her arms crossed, looking quite triumphant. Hermione shot her a grateful look that was returned with a slight grin.

"So? What do you have to say, Hermione? Where were you?" Ron frowned crossly.

Hermione sighed, rubbing her temples. "First off," she started huffily, "I just have to tell you how much you sound like your mother at this point, Ronald Weasley." He looked positively livid at this statement and was about to retort; however, Hermione hurriedly went on, "Second, I was only at Malfoy Manor. You didn't have to worry so."

"Didn't have to worry?" Ron echoed incredulously. "Oh yeah, we didn't have to worry that you willingly went over to your kidnapper's house for some tea and crumpets! When we had just spent days rescuing you, no less! Did you bond over Dark Marks? Or thought of some new designs of Death Eater robes? Perhaps chiffon?" He was nearing hysteria.

"Excuse me," Hermione snapped coldly, irritated by both Ron's offensive and incorrect labeling of Draco's character and the sleepiness that was threatening to overcome her at a moment's notice. "His personality is actually very different than what you, and I, previously, had assumed them to be. Now, if you'll all excuse me-"

"Different!" cried Ron, looking quite as he had when he attempted to curse Draco in second year, only to end up with a mouthful of slugs. "How so, Hermione? Has he stopped hating Harry? Has he murdered his father? Has he set up a shrine to Dumbledore, handed out Burberry socks to his elves, and danced around his garden singing 'God Save the Queen?' Because, honestly, Hermione, I find it hard to believe that Draco could warrant the title 'different'."

"What I find hard to believe," Hermione retorted, voice rising, "is why you're acting like such an impudent, immature fool. I never said that either his mind or manners have improved! All I meant was that, from knowing him better, I now understand him more than I previously did. You know, you could pick up a thing or two about maturity by talking to him, Ron!" She shot him a look of derision and stomped angrily upstairs before he could say another word.

Thankfully, nobody followed her.

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Hermione received several letters from Draco the next few days, all to which she wrote back immediately and enthusiastically. His letters, full of his characteristic detachment and biting wit, never failed to entertain Hermione – she once had laughed so hard at Draco's opinion of the Weird Sisters ("a band of Professor Trelawney look-alikes on a certain illegal drug") that Ginny had threatened to Bat-Bogey her if she kept it up.

The free days spent at the Leaky Cauldron had all but restored Ginny to her original self. She had put on a little more weight, and the spunky fire had returned to her eyes. She had even taken up fighting with her brother again.

Of course, Ginny wasn't the only one who fought with Ron those days. Hermione, who had become immensely fed up with Ron's overprotective nature (to which Ginny could relate, ever since her Dean Thomas days), had gone out of her way to avoid Ron and any possible awkward moments that could come with seeing him.

So it came as a big surprise to her when Ron knocked on her open door one day, looking a bit sheepish.

"Yes, Ron?" Hermione asked suspiciously, wary as to what he wanted.

He leaned against the doorframe. "Sorry about…you know," he muttered.

Hermione smiled to herself. "I daresay, you are almost as bad as Draco with apologies," she laughed. "But it is appreciated. And I owe a few apologies myself, since we're on the subject."

"But you have nothing to apologize for," Ron insisted, clearly relieved that Hermione had forgiven him so easily.

"How about leaving my assigned post at Hogwarts? You must be angry that I had failed at my only assignment."

"Once Ginny contacted Harry that night at Malfoy's party, Harry helped you think of a cover for McGonagall. He didn't want anyone to get too worried because he was sure we would find you. I think our old friend Lavender Brown has stepped in as a substitute."

Hermione fought the intense urge to say, "Oh, you mean Lav-Lav?" Instead, she went on," Oh, well, thank Harry for me. But Ron, I have to apologize for leaving you and marrying Malfoy, especially when you and I were doing…so well."

"But Hermione," Ron said, secretly pleased that Hermione had admitted to liking him, "You didn't mean to leave us! I mean, Malfoy kidnapped you against your will. It's not like you wanted to marry him!" Suddenly, a shadow crossed Ron's face. "Did you?"

Hermione was silent. _Did I? _she thought. _I definitely don't hate him anymore, no. Hatred is long past. Do I dislike him? After everything he's done for me, I'm ashamed to have ever disliked him at all. And the respect I held for him for a while has, for some time now, grew into somewhat of a friendship, I'd say. But did I ever love him?_

"Did you, Hermione?" Ron croaked anxiously, amazingly on cue.

When she still didn't answer, he threw his arms up in disgust. "I don't believe this," he hissed. "You know, if someone would have told me two years ago that my best friend would end up married to my (and her, not to mention!) worst enemy, I would have thought them absolutely mental! I would have never thought you would stoop so low."

"Ron-"

"Hermione," he cut in seriously, "we are talking about the boy who wrote an entire demeaning song on how I was a disgrace to the Gryffindor Quidditch team. And taught it to the whole school."

"I know, Ron-"

"And made 'Potter Stinks' pins in fourth year," Ron went on, grimacing at the harrowing memories.

"You had one, too!-"

"And killed our headmaster, if you don't recall."

"That was Snape-"

"He made our lives miserable," Ron continued, voice rising. "He called you names, he hexed you, and he wanted you to die. I'm willing to bet, Hermione, that he doesn't even like you now. He never will. You're wasting your time. Read my lips: He. Doesn't. Even-"

"Shut the hell up, Ron."

Ron was slightly taken aback at Hermione's sudden outburst. "I'm just saying," he stammered.

Hermione's eyes narrowed. "Well, I, for one, don't want to hear it." She stood up and gathered the tiny assortment of clothes she had managed to salvage from Malfoy Manor the other day. "I'm leaving."

Ron groaned. "Don't leave now, Hermione! We're moving back to Grimmauld Place in a few more days! Just stay! Please. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it. Please."

Hermione turned around, face softening. "Fine. I'll just leave for Grimmauld Place first; you three stay for the few more days. I'll-I'll tidy up the house and set it up first- make the beds and whatnot. I just really need to get out of the Leaky Cauldron. There's too many memories. You understand."

Looking slightly mollified, Ron nodded.

Without another word, Hermione left the room and slowly made her way downstairs, where Harry and Ginny were talking over several steaming cups of tea. They both turned abruptly at the sound of Hermione's footsteps.

"Hermione!" Ginny called, taking in the bundles in Hermione's arms. "Where are you going?"

"Erm, Snuffle's place," Hermione said discreetly. "I'm meeting you guys there. I just need a change of scenery, I suppose. I'll make the house livable for your return."

Ginny looked at her warily. "Okay, that sounds good! We'll see you soon," she finally said, with a smile.

"Safe journey," Harry added, winking.

Hermione smiled at both of them and stepped out of the Leaky Cauldron into the busy alley. As she prepared for Apparition in an open space, she knew just where she would be concentrating on.

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Hermione climbed the steps toward the grandiose house she had just Apparated to._ I have a lot to do,_ she thought, exhaling, as she tapped the door cautiously with a large brass knocker.

It swung open. The inhabitant of the house stared back at Hermione with surprise.

"Well, you just can't stay away from me, can you?" came the easy drawl.

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it. Please feel free to leave me any feedback you would like to share. Thank you so much, and I hope you are all enjoying what is left of a fading summer! Depressing conclusion, I know. Sorry! (:


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/characters/etc. based on HP by JKR! Some dialogue in this chapter from P.P by J.A. (:

Thank yous: WeasleyGirl09, Sam's Firefly, coldblueblood, nothing rhymes with orange, redfox1186, stalkqueen, ariesfiregirl, niki, prowlingkitkat, dreamcatcher27, sarah, and sweetlyevil! Thank you, everyone, your feedback is definitely appreciated! (: You guys are all brilliant and kind! Thanks again! (:

(A/N) Well, as promised, I'm back! And I tried to make my chapter significantly longer to make up for leaving you a cliffhanger last time! (: Enjoy.

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Once again, Hermione and Draco found themselves seated in the garden, still covered with slight water from the morning rain.

"Any more apologies you want to make?" Draco joked. "I'm quite at my leisure here."

"Not at the present moment. I just couldn't stand Ron. I just wanted to get away for a while."

"Well, thank you for considering my humble home." Draco bowed sarcastically.

"Speaking of which, are your parents here right now?"

"No, they're at their winter home at Surrey. Apparently, they trust me to stay here alone." He put air quotes around the word "trust."

"They aren't…mad at you, right?" asked Hermione, tentatively. "For letting me escape?"

Draco was surprisingly nonchalant. He scoffed. "No, it all worked out. It turns out nobody wanted Pansy as the tool for his plan (imagine that), and I had a runaway bride on my hands, so Pansy and I were conveniently matched together. My parents were honestly only disappointed that they hadn't gotten to keep you here. And Blaise found some other ugly Death Eater daughter nobody wanted. You remember Millicent Bullstrode, don't you? Hideous cow of a girl -poor Blaise. So, everything worked itself out. It's no big deal, actually."

Hermione nodded eagerly, trying to retain every word. "So, we don't… have to get a divorce, do we?"

Again, Draco dismissed the issue with surprising ease. "Yeah, right," he chuckled. "Everyone in our community knew our marriage was simply a plan. And you couldn't have possibly told anyone else about us, since you were stuck in the house for all this time. So I doubt anyone's going to expect a divorce for a marriage that, in their eyes, isn't even real. You can simply consider it 'annulled'."

Hermione was surprised (not to mention, impressed) that all the mind-boggling questions that had been nagging at her all week had been so easily answered. "Ah," she nodded, frowning, digesting all that had just been revealed to her. "That was easy, then."

"Yup." Draco examined his nails.

"But there's another question I have," Hermione started, hesitantly.

Draco noted the reluctant tone in her voice and turned, surprised. "What is it?"

"How did you get Blaise to let Ginny go?"

Shocked surprise flitted across Draco's face, but his expression quickly settled back into a knowing smirk. "I was expecting this," he replied, sighing and shaking his head. "Well," he began, "Blaise and I have been friends for a very long time, as I'm sure you know. And he also loves to make bets, as I'm sure you also know. Do you remember when he bet me on whose wife was more obedient at my party?" Here, Draco smirked to himself. "We won that one. Anyway, Blaise's mother, like her son, also loves betting. She'd bet on anything that crossed her path. When Blaise and I were younger, his mother made a bet with my father over something extremely stupid and trivial. The bet got incredibly out of hand and the wagers eventually reached around 103,000 Galleons."

Hermione inhaled sharply through her teeth. "I don't think I've even ever seen so much money," she admitted.

Draco looked as if he wanted desperately to say something, but he thankfully held back. Instead, he continued, "Anyway, Blaise's mother eventually won, but my father refused to admit it. To this day, I don't think I remember what they bet on, but it was something capricious and hard to judge. My father insisted he had won, and Mrs. Zabini insisted she had won. It spiraled out of control, and they both weren't the same after that incident. Oh, our families talked, of course, and maintained a friendly façade, but the truth is, I think both of them, deep down, always wanted their money back."

"So you paid Blaise," Hermione said in an awed voice, "103000 Galleons."

Draco shrugged.

"Merlin," she said, shaking her head in disbelief, "you must have paid him your life savings! All to make up for that silly, ancient bet!"

"And for you, of course."

Hermione gave a start. Her mouth opened in surprise. "Oh," she exhaled. "That's right."

Draco noticed the effect of his casual statement and hurriedly went on, "And, of course, it wasn't my life savings. I mean, I'm still incredibly rich, much richer than Weasley will ever hope to be."

Hermione was still in a state of shock- so much that she missed (or disregarded) Draco's dig on Ron. "Draco," she sighed, looking down. "I can't accept this. I'm going to have to pay you back."

"Don't be daft," Draco scoffed. "Come on, I didn't even know Knuts existed until I was six."

"Oh goodness," Hermione laughed, in spite of herself. "I don't know how to thank you," she breathed, unable to comprehend how someone she had previously thought to be the most arrogant man alive had just paid more than one hundred thousand Galleons to rescue her. This realization brought grateful tears to her eyes, and to her utter mortification, she began crying. "Thank you so much," she managed to say before the crack in her voice betrayed her.

"Merlin," Draco muttered, rolling his eyes, amused. "I've never understood why girls cried over everything."

"Draco!" Hermione replied exasperatedly. "I don't understand how you can be so modest! You saved my life. You saved Ginny's life! You willingly gave away five times Rufus Scrimgeour's yearly salary to pay for our escape! Draco, I am so, so, incredibly sorry for any ill thought of you that ever crossed my mind."

"You thought ill of me before?" Draco deadpanned.

"Seriously! I'm not kidding! You are absolutely incredible. You are- you are- amazing, I love you."

A long, shocked silence met Hermione's stammers, in which her cheeks reddened at what had just come spilling out of her mouth.

Draco's mouth curled upwards. "Well, that is quite an improvement over 'foul, loathsome evil cockroach'," he joked, nodding in satisfaction.

"What I meant to say," Hermione continued, with an embarrassed laugh, "was that we all love you. For what you've done for us."

"Even Pothead?"

Hermione grinned. "Well, not in those exact words, of course. But I'm sure he's definitely grateful."

Draco chuckled and draped an arm over his raised knee. Then he turned to her and said, with a small smirk and grey eyes filled with an unidentifiable emotion, something that would echo in Hermione's head for years to come.

"You're welcome. You're welcome, Hermione."

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"We're here!" Ginny's excited voice echoed through the empty rooms of 12 Grimmauld Place. "Hermione!"

Hermione stopped dusting the table she'd been working on in the other room and grinned. She bounded to the door and then threw her arms around Ginny. "It's so good to see you!" Hermione cried. "All of you!"

"Wow, Hermione, what's gotten into you?" Harry grinned, giving her a one-armed hug.

Hermione, who would rather eat slugs than admit that her clandestine visit to Draco Malfoy two days ago had been the cause of her newfound optimism, only answered, "It actually is quite lonely here- I understand now how Sirius must have felt, being cooped up for so long. I simply missed all of you!"

Ron stood awkwardly off to the side, watching the others chat livelily. Hermione noticed this and relieved him of his bundle of clothing. "Ron!" she laughed. "Don't just stand there like a log! Go settle in! You'll find that I've made the rooms as comfortable as possible. They're still deadly cold, but I tried my best."

Ron was visibly relieved at Hermione's ease. "Great, thanks, Hermione!" he smiled, setting off for a room. Ginny and Harry followed, obviously thrilled at their return to a stable lodging. Hermione stood behind, admiring her handiwork. The sounds of her happy friends eventually became softer as they retreated farther upstairs.

Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Hermione noticed a snowy figure swoop quickly past the window. Seconds later, a small red envelope floated down the ashy chimney and landed gracefully into the logs. Hermione's breath excitedly caught in her throat. _Another letter from Draco! _She snuck a furtive glance around the house and proceeded to dive so quickly at it that had any Quidditch teams been in need of a new Seeker, they would have recruited Hermione on the spot. Her hands clamped upon the letter, and she snatched it up eagerly.

_What?_ Hermione thought, confused, as she recognized just what it was she was holding. She flipped it over, giving it a cursory examination. _A Howler? _

Quickly, as it began to grow hot in her fingers, she ripped it open, dreading what she may have to face. The ribbons fell to the ground gracefully, and the paper folded itself into the figure of an oddly shaped mouth.

"This Howler is for Miss Hermione Granger," a very prim, cold voice came from within (completely defeating the purpose of a "Howler"). "You are speaking with Mrs. Viola Parkinson. I would now say that it is a pleasure to speak with you, but I would be lying." Hermione's jaw dropped here, in indignation. "You must know, of course, why I am thus writing to you. My daughter Pansy has informed me of you have been making little visits to Draco Malfoy, and I must admit that I am not happy with your doing so. Now, I know as well as the next person in the neighborhood that you and Draco were, in some way, acquainted. But I also feel the need to bring to your knowledge that your marriage to him was meaningless. It meant nothing to you, to him, and to the whole community. It was just a plan. Draco Malfoy does not love you, silly girl. So do yourself a favor and stop visiting him and attempting to have him fall in love with you. That's right, Miss Granger, I can see through your transparent plan. Do you think that he would ever accustom himself with you? You, a woman of inferior birth, of absolutely no importance to the world, and of a Muggle family with no money? Furthermore, Draco Malfoy is, as of today, engaged to my daughter, and there is absolutely nothing you can do about it. This marriage has been planned since birth, and if Pansy sees you around Malfoy Manor again, rest assured that I will personally see you off the property. We never want to see your face around these parts again. That is all. Good day."

With that, the Howler ripped itself into shreds and floated gently down to the wooden planks of the floor. Prior to that moment, Hermione had not noticed that she had been gripping the sides of the couch so hard that her knuckles were losing their color. Her teeth had been clenched together so tightly that a faint sign of a headache began to erupt. _How dare she speak to me like that? _Hermione fumed, cheeks coloring in utter fury. She stomped angrily on the shreds of the letter, tears springing to her eyes. _Draco, engaged to Pansy? __It cannot be! _Tears of anger at being spoken to in such an insulting way, mixed with perhaps tears of disappointment (the last thing Hermione wanted to admit to herself) at finding out that Draco was engaged (from Pansy's mother, no less!) began to stream messily down her cheeks.

"How dare she?" Hermione cried aloud to the empty living room. "How dare he? Why would he do this?" She sank in despair onto the couch and put her head in her hands. "Even when he's not here, he finds ways to disappoint me all over again," she muttered into her hands. Tears continued to run down her face, leaving wet circles on her jeans.

Suddenly, a slight cough from the corner caused Hermione to jump abruptly to her feet in surprise. Ron, Harry, and Ginny, who had heard the voice of the Howler and come downstairs to see what all the fuss was, were standing awkwardly in the corner, staring, all three wide-eyed and bewildered, at Hermione's distressed figure.

"Erm," Hermione cleared her throat, attempting to redeem herself after her mortifying display of an emotional breakdown, "Hello, all. Er, I'm fine. I'm sorry to have interrupted anything."

Even though she avoided Ron's eyes, she could feel his disappointed gaze searing into the side of her head. She couldn't bring herself to face him.

Harry spoke first, sounding slightly let down. "You went to Malfoy's house?"

Hermione kept a fixed stare at the ground.

"Hermione." Harry's voice was stern, but still kind. "It's okay. Tell us the truth. We won't judge you."

Grateful for such a caring friend, Hermione finally looked up at Harry. "Yes," she sighed. "We still keep in touch."

Harry shook his head in resignation. "Well, Hermione, we won't do anything to stop you. But Pansy's mother apparently will. I say this because I don't want to see you get hurt, Hermione: but perhaps you should stay away from Malfoy. Maybe move on. I mean, it's not as if you can't survive without him, right?"

For the second time that week, Hermione was faced with another Draco-related qualm. _Can I?_ she thought. _That's like asking me if I could live without Ginny. Or Harry. Or Ron- well…_ She mentally slapped herself. _What am I thinking? Of course, I can't live without Ron! Or any of my friends! Draco is, technically, considered a friend… How could I go on without his friendship or conversation? I don't dare bring myself to imagine life without him. But what other option do I have? Mrs. Parkinson would likely hang me by my toenails if she catches me writing or visiting him again._

"Hermione?" Harry asked again, trying, gingerly, not to display any impatience. "Will you be okay?"

She attempted to grin, but felt as if she were grimacing. "Of course," she replied, unconvincingly. "This letter is actually a relief. I've tried to stay away, unsuccessfully, and I think Mrs. Parkinson will act as my restraint. I'll be better off away from Draco…and that part of my life. I want to leave it behind, and I think I finally can."

Harry smiled that lopsided smile that had thrown many girls at Hogwarts into weak-kneed giggles. "What you're doing is very admirable, Hermione," he said. "We're all very proud of you."

Ron, excited at the prospect of the elimination of any particular competition for Hermione's heart, joked, "I knew you hadn't come back to Grimmauld. I jumped onto my bed just now, and dust bunnies practically consumed me!"

Hermione smiled weakly. "To be honest, I hadn't gotten around to cleaning the beds."

Harry and Ron, all smiles, ushered Hermione into the kitchen with talk of tea and hot chocolate to liven up her spirits. Hermione followed, a fake beam plastered on her stiff face.

All the while, Ginny stood behind, staring curiously at her bushy-haired, tear-stained, and obviously heartbroken friend.

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Sorry about the delayed update- school's been a lot harder than expected! Well, the next chapter is in progress! Please leave me a review to let me know what you thought. Thanks! (:


	19. Chapter 19

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/characters/etc. based on HP by JKR! Some plot from P.P by J.A. (:

Thank yous: Queen of the Scoubies, Nothing rhymes with orange, WeasleyGirl09, ProwlingKitKat, carly, sarah, and hpwwefan! Thank you, everyone, your feedback is always, always appreciated! (: Thanks for taking your time to write me!

(A/N) Well, well, it has been QUITE a while since I've updated! It's great to be back; I could never leave this to rot! School has been a nightmare, and I've dug out some time to follow through with my story! No worries, I WILL finish this fan fic. I've planned out the last three chapters, I think. Well, on to the chapter!

Enjoy!

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Hermione stood at Hogsmeade Station, waving goodbye to Harry and Ron for the second time in her life. _There should be a universal rule stating that people should not experience hurt like this twice in one lifetime,_ Hermione thought painfully as Ron and Harry's figures grew smaller and smaller in the distance. Eventually, the train faded out of view, and Hermione lowered her arm.

The previous day, Harry and Ron had been called upon by the Order for another assignment, leading Hermione to decide to return to her position at Hogwarts- both to distance herself from Draco and to keep her mind from constantly wandering back to him. Upon hearing this plan, Ginny had protested loudly against staying alone at Grimmauld Place, and Hermione, eager for any further distractions from Draco, heartily agreed to take her friend back to the school with her.

Thus, the next day found the two girls walking up the road from Hogsmeade Station, clutching what little possessions they owned. In fact, one reason why Hermione looked forward to her return was the reunification between her and her wardrobe. _I don't know how long I've been wearing this sweater, _she thought, nose crinkling at the idea.

A carriage, undoubtedly pulled by thestrals, clattered to a stop on the cobblestone road on which Hermione and Ginny were hiking. They eagerly opened the small door and climbed in, ecstatic to be relieved of the pain in their feet. Once they were settled into their cushions, they felt the carriage jerk forward and begin moving in a steady pace.

"Oh, Hermione," Ginny said, eagerly, from her seat, placing her hands in her lap. "I'm so excited to return to Hogwarts! You have no idea how much I've missed the place." Eyes shining, she turned to stare longingly out the window at the Hogwarts castle, waiting in the distance like a long-lost friend. "I can't wait to meet your students, too! Your job must be tons of fun," she added, all but clapping in anticipation.

Hermione made a noise of absentminded assent as the carriage clattered up to the Hogwarts gates, adorned with two winged boars. As Hermione stepped out of the door into the sunlight, she looked up at the comforting figure of the castle and sighed.

"Welcome home, old friend."

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"Are you planning on eating breakfast in the Great Hall today?" Hermione asked, tying her hair effortlessly into her characteristic teaching hairstyle, a high ponytail adorned with a red ribbon.

"No," Ginny replied sleepily, still sprawled across her four-poster, eyes shut. "I'm going to go to Hogsmeade again- maybe pick up that new dress robe I saw at Madam Maulkin's. I have to start rebuilding my wardrobe, in any case."

Hermione laughed. "Perfectly understandable. Oh, how I wish I could join you!"

"But, alas," Ginny jested dramatically, sitting up, "Your little sheep await your guidance."

The two girls spoke a while longer, until Hermione could not prolong going to class any longer. The instant Hermione waved goodbye and shut the door, Ginny leapt out of bed and quickly threw on some clothes. _There'll be no new dress robes today, _she thought, just a little regretfully.

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Hermione had not been back at Hogwarts for a day before she reacquainted herself with the library she had grown to miss. (_The very library, _she remembered with a pang, _where it had all begun.._) On the other hand, it had been nearly a week before Hermione decided to pay a visit to the Owlery, another of her favorite hideouts as a student.

As Hermione stepped, one sunny winter day, into the slightly chilly, and luckily, empty Owlery, she breathed in the familiar scent of feathers, mixed with fresh parchment (which had always been a weakness of hers). The soft hoots of several owls hidden in nooks of the high ceiling greeted her. Hermione sighed contentedly and contemplated settling down to read. It was a place of utter peace, after all (if one just ignored the hundreds of resting birds).

However, even before Hermione could relax and pull out her latest library book, Fireworks Through the Ages, she found herself practically being mauled to pieces by an annoyed-looking snowy owl.

"Ahh!" she shrieked, shielding herself from the owl's talons, which were trying to force something in Hermione's face (to little avail). Hermione continued squealing and fighting off the owl with her bulky textbook. "Leave me alone!" she growled. Finally, the poor owl gave up, angrily dropped the letter it held onto the ground, and flew off in disdain.

At this, Hermione sighed and lowered the book. She alternated her curious stares between the owl's retreating figure and the innocent letter, lying on the floor.

"No," she thought, rejecting the innocent thought that flitted through her head. "There has to be a mistake. This letter wasn't meant for me. That owl has made a mistake. Yes…"

But as if the universe was mocking her, in that instant, a soft gust of wind blew in from the ceilings and lifted the envelope lightly into the air. In what seemed to be slow motion, the letter flipped over and floated to the ground, like a feather caught in a passing breeze.

Hermione bent down, examining the letter with a thudding heart.

On the pale yellow envelope, above a still bleeding seal, was her name.

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"Ginny!" Hermione's voice echoed and reverberated in the hall as she threw open the door. She clutched the letter she had just received with the same urgency that a drowning man might clutch a life preserver.

Ginny was sitting Indian-style on her four-poster, innocently picking at her fingernail. "What's wrong, Hermione?" she asked, with the air of one asking about the weather.

Hermione stepped into the room and shut the door before speaking. She exhaled impatiently, "Don't give me that, Ginny. I know. I know everything. You know what? I can't believe you would stir up the calm like this. I was all set to forget him and now this! You're making it so hard for me to move on!"

Ginny played with her fingernail as she waited patiently for her friend's breathing to return to normal. When it did, she said softly, "Let me see the letter, Hermione."

Hermione stared at Ginny, and for one fearful moment, Ginny thought Hermione would launch forth another barrage of verbal abuse. However, the moment soon passed without consequence, in which Hermione wordlessly tossed the parchment onto the bed.

As Hermione walked silently over to her own bed, Ginny peeled open the still sticky seal and scanned the letter.

_Hermione,_ it read, _you haven't burdened me with your presence in quite a while. And I must say, I've been a little disappointed. Before today, I spent a great deal of time wondering what I did to drive you away. But thinking back, I realized that the last thing you said to me proclaimed your undying gratitude. Not exactly, the type of thing one would say to someone she never wanted to see again. So, that left me with no answers. Until your little redheaded friend fought her way into my house and explained everything. Merlin, I had a hard time explaining her to my parents. Anyway, I wanted to tell you that there was absolutely no truth whatsoever to Mrs. Parkinson's letter. Pansy and I are not getting married (thank heavens), and neither of them have any authority over who comes and goes on my property. Please. Did you have so little faith in me? I would never hide secrets of that magnitude from you. Please visit; my brain has been addled by conversations about coasters and fashion. I'm thirsty for intellect. I hope this letter finds you well. My owl is quite persistent. Draco._

Ginny smiled to herself as she folded the letter up, along the existing creases. She stared at the back of Hermione's head for a while before pleading softly, "Hermione, I'm making it hard for you to move on because you don't want to. I know you don't."

"How would you know that, Ginny?" Her voice was guarded but harmless.

"You can lie to Harry, Ron, and yourself all you want, but I saw how heartbroken you were when you got the Howler a few months ago. And I see how thrilled you are that the Howler was a bluff. I see, even now, that you're hiding your happiness with anger." She twirled her red hair absentmindedly. "Am I right?"

She saw Hermione's head droop. "I have to get to my classroom," she all but whispered. "The children are going to wonder where I am."

Ginny nodded.

_In time, _Ginny thought, as Hermione left. _In time, she'll admit it to me._

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it:) Please leave a review to let me know what you thought – they're truly appreciated! I'll update ASAP – school has horrendously stifled much of my creative time. :) Thanks again!


	20. Chapter 20

Disclaimer: Characters/names/setting property of JKR.

Thank you's: olla, Samantha, Amber, DaOnliTaz17, Sango A.R., babe02, April, WeasleyGirl09, Nothing rhymes with orange, dragonlover9106!! Thank you so much for the reviews, guys! They really mean a lot to me and are very inspirational. Thanks to you guys!

(A/N) I apologize in advance for how short this chapter is! As you know, I haven't updated in about 3 months, and I feel terrible! I pinky promise that I will finish this fic, mainly because I love HP so much! (: So I used this chapter to kind of build up what will happen in the final 2 or 3 chapters. I hope you enjoy it regardless!

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Draco sat behind his mahogany desk, his thin frame lost behind the clutter. _I wonder if Hermione's received my letter yet._ His stomach churned nervously, much in the manner of one awaiting the arrival of OWL scores. His mind raced, thinking back to the day he had composed the letter. The day little Ginny Weasley had come to him and told him what batty Viola Parkinson had done. Draco drummed his fingers with increasing anger – "married to Pansy"?! The mere thought was enough to turn his stomach. He shuddered.

Then, in a rush, Draco's mind cleared; the anger, annoyance, and anxiety that had inhabited it a few seconds prior vanished. For the first time in a long while, Draco was completely at ease.

And in that instant, he realized what he had to do.

He got up from his suede armchair and tossed a cloak over his shoulder. As he quietly crossed the marble corridor and pushed open the heavy oak door, he was intercepted by the person he least wanted to see.

"Parkinson," Draco said, emotionlessly. "Kindly get the hell out of my way." He made a move to descend the steps, but Pansy blocked his path.

"I will not," she said, folding her arms. "Where are you going?"

"None of your business."

Pansy sighed and attempted again, "Draco. I had nothing to do with that Howler. You have to believe me."

He shot her a derisive look out of the corner of his eye. "How can I? When have you ever done anything to prove that you don't wish to inflict pain on Hermione?"

Immediately, Pansy's face contorted. "Do you even hear yourself, Draco?" she fumed, almost stammering in anger. "You spent six years aiming to make Hermione, Ron, and Harry's lives miserable! You practically taught me to hate them! And you have the nerve – the utter nerve – to say that to me? You're one to talk!"

Draco swallowed, as Pansy concluded her rant with some foul words. But Draco was not swallowing because he was afraid of Pansy – no. He was swallowing because he knew that Pansy was right. And worse, he actually felt… ashamed.

"You're right," he replied, to the cold English air and Pansy's shocked face.

"What?" She squinted at him, breathlessly. "I'm what?"

"Right," he repeated briskly. "You're right. All my life, I'd acted like a complete jerk to Hermione. I mean, you'd understand why I hated Harry, of course. But Hermione… such a good person. Clever, too. I don't think I've ever met cleverer. And fun, surprisingly. You wouldn't know it, what with her nose stuck in a book all the time. Oh yeah, she was smart too…" His voice trailed; he was obviously lost in his own world. "And Parkinson?"

Pansy started a little at being addressed. "What, Draco?"

His grey eyes sparked as he said, quietly, "I'm not entirely sure why I began hating her in the first place."

Pansy smirked unkindly. "Oh, I'm sure you do."

Draco waved her statement away, dismissively. "Lineage, you're going to say. But isn't it silly how something so small sparked all these years of hate?" He chuckled mirthlessly. "A war – an entire war! – fought over bloodlines. Bloodlines. Something we can't even see, until it's spilled in battle. It's daft. Hermione has always been a…great person. And because of this silly mentality…I've wasted so many years in unwarranted hate."

Pansy stared, her black eyes unblinking. "You've gone bonkers," she declared. "What has gotten into you?"

And then it dawned on Draco. He was. _I am. _He had thought about it before, but he had always chased it away as a fleeting moment of insanity. But he knew now, that it wasn't ephemeral. It was real.

"Love," he replied, every bit as surprised at himself as Pansy appeared to be.

"Oh please!" she scoffed. "You, Draco Malfoy, have not and will never love Hermione Granger."

He only smirked. "Goodbye, Parkinson." Quickly sidestepping her, Draco descended the steps two at a time and swiftly Apparated away.

---

Draco emerged from the office and stepped off the final stone step as the gargoyle leapt aside. He wiped the sweat off his brow. It had been a long, hard conversation. But he still had one more thing to do. His feet led the way.

---

Several miles away, 19-year-old Hermione Granger was sitting quietly on her bed, re-reading Draco's letter for what seemed to be the millionth time.

Ginny sat opposite Hermione, watching her intently. Ginny's fire-red hair lay in loose waves around her worried face.

"Hermione."

"Hmmm."

"You're going to have to write back someday."

"I know. But not today." She folded the letter back up, as she'd done so many times before.

"Hermione."

"What, Ginny?"

"I think you should write back today."

Hermione looked up. She ran her fingers across the creases in the parchment absentmindedly. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes, all right." Hermione swung her legs over the bed. "I suppose I've waited long enough." She busied herself with collecting some writing supplies, then turned to Ginny. "I'm going to write back."

Ginny smiled. "You do that."

Hermione sighed and smoothed down her plaid skirt before exiting the room. Her head hurt.

_Maybe I should go to the library, _she thought. Because, after all she'd been through, Hermione was still Hermione.

Her feet led the way.

---

Hermione climbed the spiraling stone staircase that led to the high-ceilinged library and breathed in the refreshing scent of parchment. _Ahh,_ she sighed, comforted. The library, filled with such endless knowledge and learning, was the only place outside of her own house where Hermione truly felt at home.

She laid her quill, ink, and parchment on a table at the back niche of the vast room. Minutes passed swiftly as Hermione scratched out the thoughts that had yearned for an outlet for the past weeks, as they inundated out of the depths of her mind.

She almost missed the footsteps approaching her desk.

Almost.

Hermione looked up slowly, and almost jumped at the person standing in front of her. The tall, thin, and slightly handsome boy was nineteen, she knew for a fact, and he had ruffled, white-blond hair and piercing grey eyes. His clothes were baggy, yet they looked immaculate and crisp on his lean body. He wore a smirk that Hermione knew too well.

Way too well.

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Please feel more than free to leave a comment/question in a review! Thanks for reading!


	21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: Characters/setting/names belong to HRM JKR.

Thank you's: AriesFireGirl, Simpleelovely673, Nothing rhymes with Orange, sarah, DaOnliTaz17, MaskOfComedy, Dragonlover9106, Draco's Dark Lady, Libby, jihyunnie, and WeasleyGirl09! You guys are so great, I absolutely appreciate your reviews and comments. You are wonderful! Thanks again! (:

On to the chapter!

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"What are you doing here, Draco?" Hermione sputtered, shock preceding her manners.

Draco Malfoy smirked. "I thought, since I hadn't heard back from you, that I would spare you the bother of owling your letter. I got impatient, you could say." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Hermione cover the parchment in front of her in a not-so-subtle movement. He teasingly leaned over to inspect the letter. "Ah, I see you're not even finished writing it, in any case."

A pink tint rushed to Hermione's cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Draco – I just… had a lot to think about."

Draco pulled out a chair from under the table and sat down, putting his hands behind his head. "It's okay." He pretended to yawn. "Go on, finish it, I'll wait here."

Laughing slightly, Hermione replied, "Sort of defeats the purpose, doesn't it?"

"I suppose. But you're worth it."

There was an awkward silence, in which Hermione tried to hide her blushing by shuffling her parchment. She sighed. "Draco," she finally said, "what did you really come for?"

"Well…" He sat up. Something radiated within his grey eyes, but quickly, as if nervously, disappeared. He clasped his hands and exhaled, "Okay, I'm just going to say it."

Hermione gave him an encouraging nod.

Draco sighed again. He seemed to brace himself internally before starting, "I'm, well… you know when people can't stop… and they don't want anything.. you know. What I'm trying to say, is…"

"What is it?"

"I love you, Hermione."

"What?" The color drained from her face.

"I mean it," Draco pressed, feeling much more relieved that he had gotten the brunt of his message over with. "It's been growing steadily, all this time, but I just kept denying it. First, I convinced myself that I was simply concerned about your life, then I convinced myself that you were a good friend, or that I simply liked your stimulating conversation. Now, finally – finally, I've realized that I love you, Hermione. And I think that you love me too."

Hermione was shocked. She tried replying, but, for some strange reason, all that kept flashing through her mind was Hogwarts memories in which Draco had tormented her, Ron, and Harry. Snippets of random moments flashed through her mind like lightning. Ron spitting slugs. Draco with Rita Skeeter clutched in his hand. Draco handing out Potter Stinks pins. Hermione's head reeled, and she had to slam her hands down onto the table to keep steady. "And what if you're wrong?" she finally managed to whisper. "What if I don't love you?" The question was purely a test; Hermione herself knew she didn't mean it.

Draco knew it as well. He smirked. "Then I just ran away from home and risked my life for nothing."

"What?"

Suddenly, Draco put his head in his hands and rubbed his temples wearily. "You have no idea what I just did. For you."

Hermione tensed immediately. "What did you do?" Images of hexed students, bruised and bleeding, lying in the halls floated through her head.

To her surprise, Draco simply looked up and chuckled slightly. "I know that tone. It's nothing like that."

Hermione, slightly dismayed that Draco had gotten to know her so well that he could pinpoint a "tone" of hers, replied absentmindedly, "So, are you going to tell me or not?"

He ran a hand through his white-blond strands of hair. "And _that's_ what I came here to do."

---

Hermione was in a daze. Draco's mouth was moving, his hands were moving, but all that made its way into Hermione's ears was a low buzz. Her heart was pounding in her throat. She couldn't believe it. _He did all that. For me. _

"So I left," Draco was saying, when Hermione's ears decided to regain usage. "I just left home. I don't care if I never go back. There was nothing worth staying for, anyway. So I came here and had a little talk with McGonagall. Let me tell you, she wasn't too pleased to see me. I ended talking to her for three hours. I think she finally, at last, believed that I was under the Imperius Curse when I was told to kill Dumbledore."

Hermione sat up a bit straighter in her chair. "Were you really?"

He shot her a disappointed look. "I know you don't believe me, but it's the truth. I wouldn't lie to you, Hermione. Especially not now."

She nodded. "You don't have to explain. I know."

They both took in the silence as an unspoken agreement. The only sound, for that second, was the scraping of chairs and quiet chatter coming from beyond their little niche.

Draco continued, "After McGonagall realized I was telling the truth, she agreed to let me hide out here, with you. I told her about you too, of course. I could've sworn she smiled…anyway, I hope you don't mind me staying with you. I really can't go back now; I'll be lucky if I just get disowned."

Hermione nodded quickly. "Of course I don't mind."

He continued, "And McGonagall agreed to find a way to inform my parents that I had died. Naturally, I asked her if my death could be caused by a wayward firework near Hogsmeade."

Hermione giggled.

"Once my parents learn that my death left no remains, they'll hold an elaborate funeral, of course. They'll be heartbroken, but, honestly, they forced me to live a life that I had no say in. My mum…I've always liked her to an extent, but I think she's tough. She'll know I appreciated her. My father…well, the most of his worries is that he'll have no heir to carry on the pureblood lineage. Like I give a rat's ass what he thinks. Honestly, I feel like I'm much better off here, with you."

"But," started Hermione, "How can you live here safely? Won't some of the kids recognize you and tell their parents that you're not dead after all?"

"Ah," Draco smirked, "not a problem. On the off chance that anyone here is going to recognize me anyway, I'm going to turn my hair and eyes brown. I've already looked up a spell for that. I'm also going to add freckles and make myself a bit taller." At Hermione's uneasy look, he responded, "What? Might as well have a little fun with this. I mean, didn't you once illegally get your teeth fixed by Madam Pomfrey, Miss Prefect?"

Hermione scoffed, smiling good-naturedly.

"McGonagall even offered me a job as flying coach, so I don't get bored out of my mind here."

"Wow, so we'll both be teachers here, Malfoy! That's amazing."

"I hope the students aren't too difficult to work with. I hate kids." He grimaced.

Tenderly, almost instinctively, Hermione put a hand on Draco's back. She waited for him to tense, as always, but he didn't. Taking that as a good sign, she moved it around his neck and embraced him. "I'm so happy you're here," she said, into his warm neck.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. With one swift movement, he took her face in his hands and stared at her through narrowed eyes. She stared back, unblinkingly. Without thinking, Draco leaned in and gave Hermione a kiss that spoke volumes. Hermione closed her eyes, hoping that the moment was real. _If it's not, just let me stay here anyway. _She reveled in the moment, memorizing the back of his white-blond head with her fingers. Even long after they had broken apart, Hermione still felt warmth on her previously cold lips. She opened her eyes slowly, heart pounding, knowing everything would be different from this point on. The war, Voldemort, Hogwarts, nothing else mattered at that moment except for the two teenagers.

"I am, too," Draco finally replied. "I am, too."

---

(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Please feel free to leave a review/comment/what you had for lunch! Thanks so much for reading, and I'll update soon! (:


	22. Epilogue

Disclaimer: Characters/settings/names belong to HRM J.K.R. (:

Thank you's: witchbeth, witch, ca803, blackcoat-245, and Holly Inks! Thanks so much for reviewing, guys! Even though that probably wasn't my most popular chapter (5 reviews… eek! LOL, I kid, I kid) you guys still stuck with me! I truly appreciate it! Thanks so much – help yourself to some virtual cookies I've baked for you guys! (:

(A/N): First of all, I want to say… I am so sorry... this update is way overdue! But I got caught up with all my junior year junk (SAT's, AP's, IB's, etc.)! You readers older than me probably can relate, right? lol. But that's no excuse, I know. I apologize for taking so long, but I am so grateful that some people are still reading this fic...that I started almost 2 years ago! Wow, time flies! Well, just wanted to say thank you and I'm sorry for the hiatus. On to the chapter! (:

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EPILOGUE

Draco stormed into the room, face ablaze with annoyance.

"What's wrong with you now?" Hermione asked dispassionately, idly studying her lesson plan for next period.

"That…that Chamberlain kid is at it again! Do you know what he said to me today? He said that he was a better flyer than me AND had a better broom. You have got to be kidding me. I had to dock Slytherin 5 points. My own house. Do you know how much that hurt?" He threw his whistle angrily onto his bed and plopped onto a nearby chair.

Hermione collected her teaching supplies and threw them into her bag. She swung it over her shoulder and walked over to Draco, grinning. "Reminds me of someone I used to know back in my day. He was quite the pompous arse." She made her way toward the door. "Are we still on for dinner tonight in the Great Hall?"

Draco rolled his eyes, animosity toward students mollified for a moment. "I suppose." He smirked.

Hermione smiled before she closed the door. As she walked down the hall to her classroom, as she always did, she couldn't help but skip lightly in happiness. _Everything had worked itself out. Against all the odds. I guess when two people really love each other, happiness just tends to follow…_ It had been about two weeks since Draco had shown up at the library, ironically, where their story had first begun. Things couldn't have gone smoother. Not one student had expected that "Professor Darcy", was rich, ex-Slytherin Draco Malfoy. In fact, if what Hermione had heard during classes was legit, there were quite a few young girls who were infatuated with their new "gorgeous" flying Professor. Granted, said Professor now had mousy brown hair, but even that couldn't hide his strong, aristocratic looks. Hermione hugged her book bag to her chest, beaming.

_How lucky I am, _she thought, _that we worked through all our differences – and what differences we had! We were two people who couldn't be more unlike if we tried; starting out on two completely different sides of a circle. But as life led us around the path, we eventually met each other at the same point. And now here we are. _

_And I couldn't be happier._

Feeling as if her heart would burst from such joy, Hermione opened the door to her classroom, where she found a group of Hufflepuff and Slytherin first years awaiting her guidance. Magda Eisenhower sat attentively in the front row, her blond ringlets bouncing and bright green eyes shining. "Professor," she squeaked, after Hermione had sat down at her desk and grinned quite stupidly at the children, "Why do you look so happy today?"

Hermione slowly ran a gaze across the room, then out the grandiose window that provided a view of the Hogwarts grounds and a certain instructor demonstrating proper handling of the Quaffle to a group of restless children. Hermione felt warm tears of joy and pride linger at her eye ducts before trickling onto her flushed cheek.

"Someday, Magda," she replied, smiling, "I can only hope you will understand."

---

Draco Malfoy, otherwise known as Professor Darcy to his lot of students, slapped a hand to his forehead for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day.

"Chamberlain!" he barked. "Come here."

The young boy, sporting a disdainful smirk, flew easily over to Draco and came to a neat landing at his teacher's feet. "Yeah?"

Draco narrowed his eyes. _Hasn't anyone taught this child some manners? _"What did you just say?"

Peter Chamberlain picked at his fingernail. "I mean, yes sir?"

"That's right. What were you doing over there to Longbottom?"

Peter's eyes darted up at once. "She started it, sir! She told me to be quiet! That I talked too much!"

"And? I would think there was something wrong with the person who doesn't tell you to be quiet once in a while," Draco deadpanned. He went on, hesitating only for a slight second. "You didn't need to curse her for telling such an obvious truth. Five points from Slytherin."

The boy's face contorted at once. "That's not fair! You always favor the Gryffindors, sir! You must have been a Gryffindor yourself." He stomped off indignantly, muttering words that should have earned him a detention with Filch.

But Draco only smirked lightly and let him go. _If only he knew. _

His gaze eventually drifted over to a large window on the side of the East Tower, where an attractive young Transfiguration teacher was walking slowly down the rows of desks, monitoring her students' activities. His breath caught when she undid the ribbon in her hair, allowing the curls to tumble down her back. A trace of warmth ignited in his cold chest. Draco Malfoy was head over heels, without a doubt, in love.

It was a nice feeling.

_I guess the shrew has successfully, finally, at long last, been tamed. _

As he turned back to his students, with an echo of a smirk still etched lightly on his face, Draco was suddenly hit over the head with something heavy and bulky. It wasn't a wayward Bludger or Quaffle for once (although those instances were certainly common). No, It was a realization.

His blue-grey eyes sought Hermione through the window and locked onto her once again. The journey that the two had gone through immediately began running through his head; scenes and memories replayed at top speed, like a Confunded slideshow. Draco's head reeled.

_The shrew has been tamed, that's true._ _But it turns out that all this time, it wasn't Hermione._

And in that moment, Draco Malfoy did something quite unusual. He didn't smirk or grimace.

He smiled.

_It was me. _

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(A/N) How was it? I hope you liked it! Wow. I cannot believe it's over! This is my longest (and favorite to write) fic from both my accounts, and I hope you guys enjoyed it. I really want to thank everyone who read and (especially) reviewed it. I truly appreciate people taking time out to do that. So thank you! Also, some people have stuck with this fic since its earliest stages (you know who you are!) so I want to give a special thank you to them as well. But thanks to everyone for reading! (:


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